


We Three

by nonmurderingbread



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Disposable Demon is Legion, Family, M/M, Other, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), but is just as much of a disaster as crowley, eventual ineffable husbands, follows mostly hasturs POV, good hell bois, graphic depictions of the fall, hastur and ligur as parents, parental relationship, raphael is NOT crowley, sometimes family is a snake a frog and a lizard, who are all also demons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19308013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonmurderingbread/pseuds/nonmurderingbread
Summary: From the Fall to the flood to Nazareth and beyond, we follow Hastur, Ligur, and Crowley through the ages. Bonds are formed and broken, trust is tested and Hell evolves. Three Demons against the forces of the universe, all just desperate to find their place within it. Even as that same universe seems intent on killing them at every turn of the dial.Mostly exploring those three and their relationship before the apocadidn't. Examines their relationship and how they've changed throughout time, very Hell-centric, but other characters will appear over time. Hastur POV.





	1. A Not So Nice and Vague Saunter Downwards

It hadn't been easy. Fighting with your family was never easy. Losing was even harder.

The Rebellion had been passionate and fought with glorious rage. It had ended rather anticlimactically, though. They'd watched from the lower battlefield as Lucifer and Michael's blades had met and then - 

 

The Fall.

 

To say that the falling Angels had been shocked was an understatement. To say that they were afraid was a misrepresentation. To say that it felt as if their hearts had been broken by a hot shard of hatred was rather accurate. If you were to ask any one of the fallen afterward how long they had plummeted, they would give varying answers. Time hadn't really decided how it wanted to flow yet, and it seemed as if  _someone_ was using that to their advantage to play a very cruel joke on those who'd had the soft sands of Heaven pulled out from under them. For Hastur, he would say he'd fallen for approximately three days before he thought he'd stopped. And by thought, he actually kept falling another three before he was finished. The first jolt that had tricked him was when his ethereal body passed through a cloud of thick heavy smog. Black and ashy it had clouded his vision and choked his lungs. No matter how ethereal one was, breathing in ash was rather uncomfortable. Especially when it was so hot the temperature for it hadn't been invented yet.

The second time, though, he'd actually landed along with several others. One being his close shield mate from above, Ligur, a gentleman at heart but the curses that slipped from Ligur's mouth (later on it would be noted that many of humanities favorite curses had been invented by Ligur) after the fall would make God herself blush. Both of them had landed in the sulfuric lake. And oh it had been painful. Not enough to kill them, but enough for it to burn deep. Deeper than the flesh, deeper than the mind. It was dreadful. The only thing more dreadful than the pain of forcing their bodies to the craggy shore, wings heavy and threatening to drag them down, was the sound. Hell had never been quiet. In the very first second Hell had been created, sound had been infecting it's every nook and cranny. The first sound had been Lucifer realizing what had been done to their fellows, the next sounds were the pain of those aforementioned fellows.

As Hastur and Ligur found themselves on the sharp, black, glassy, shores of their new land they finally tuned into the sounds of the others. Their own pained gasps and whines drowned out by the screams of those who were still falling. Shocked and frightened at the circumstances they'd landed in, or were about to land in. Others in shock and panic, writhing in the lakes acid, feathered wings burning in the liquids they'd landed in. Desperate to grab onto the hands of those with working wings who'd had enough forethought to fly out and rescue their siblings who'd become trapped in the lake. Some had landed on the craggy shore, blood oozing out slow from deep wounds resulting in the impact. Landing on their backs on sharp, rocky points, left gasping with hands still reaching for the closing holes of light above them.

After catching their breaths, Hastur and Ligur set to help those less fortunate than themselves. Their wings were shedding feathers more rapidly than their tears, leaving the two to walk barefoot across the shores. Volcanic glass hadn't been a thing until that day, and with everyone who fell the shore shattered further. Hundreds of sharp, tiny, blades cutting the feet of those walking across it. Nowhere could they find respite, but oh how they all tried. Those with most strength were pushing slabs of stone to form makeshift huts. Some gathered the lost feathers to make places for the injured to lay within said huts. 

As for Hastur and his friend they gathered up those too injured to move. Ligur at their heads, and Hastur at their feet, carrying them to the small havens being constructed. Leaving the injured Angels to be cared for by those who had not yet succumbed to the haunted looks they wore. Hardly a word had been spoken between the two as they set out. There was little to say. A grunt of pain, a look that asked for their health, and a shake of the head that kept them moving. Both of them too afraid to ask the question all the fallen were thinking. 

What were they now?

They'd yet to come up with the word 'demon' yet, but all the fallen who'd managed to collect themselves had felt something absent in their souls. Some might call it a loss of grace, some might call it the loss of love. But if one were to witness the fallen flying out over a lake of acid to rescue their brethren no matter how much pain they themselves were in, it was clear they hadn't actually lost any love. Well, they'd lost someone's love just not the love they held for each other. Hastur had decided to swallow the thought and keep working. It didn't matter what they'd lost, he had to believe it was worth it. Several who-knows-what-unit-of-time later, though, and that resolve was growing heavier to carry. The falls were far and few between now, and most of the injured had been gathered together in the huts. Little could be done for them, though, they had nothing here. No light to set broken wings by, no clean water to wash wounds suffered in the lake. They only had each other.

Which is where we find Hastur and Ligur now. Leaning heavily on each other, wings curling around their bodies as they marched the shores. Looking for any they'd missed as things calmed down. Or calmed down as much as they could. A few Angels were flying out far over the lake, checking for distant shores, or islands where their fellows might have landed. The shore was craggy and dotted by large, black, hunks of obsidian that could easily hide one too injured to crawl into view. Both he and Ligur ignored the cuts on their feet as they searched, taking care to check around ever large stone, every rock that might conceal one of their own. Together they reached the end of the shore, farthest from where the huts had been constructed, the land was far less broken here - but sharper. Long stretches of the volcanic rock, lined by sharp, menacing edges. Hastur and Ligur moved slower, as they approached another hunk of rock to check behind. They couldn't afford to slip. But, oh, did the shore want them to slip. Hastur's feet, bloody and throbbing, kept threatening to slip against the rock. Blood slick against the smooth surface, threatening to drop him against the knife-like stone or into the acid they walked aside. He couldn't be more thankful that Ligur was with him, helping hold him up as they made it to the rock.

Exhaustion wasn't something the two not-quite-Angels had experienced before. But Hastur and Ligur were quickly learning it was a dreadful feeling. Both of them carefully leaning against the rock they'd come so far to investigate just to try and find some relief. Of course, though, the rock was dreadfully hot to the touch. Only burning their skin as they tried, futilely, to get some respite amongst all the chaos. They met each other's eyes, both not having the courage to tell the other what had become of the feature. It was a brief moment they shared, somewhat distraught they'd come so far for nothing, but it was a brief moment of comfort. A comfort found within each other, something that  _someone_ couldn't take away no matter how they tried. Hastur took Ligur's arm around his shoulder and they started off, to head back. 

It was as they began to move, though, did he notice something among the sea of black surrounding them. Hastur put one hand on Ligur's chest, to stop them from moving as gently as he could. Eyes squinting to look more appraisingly at the area behind the rock. Among the black, an impossible black there was a color he'd not expected. A jolt of fear shot through his heart at the thought of what would have happened had he not taken a second look. 

"What is it?", Ligur whispered, the other's voice still hoarse from so many mouthfuls of sulfur.

"Someone's there."

Ligur turned to look. Both of them heading to the almost invisible body among the glass. Their robe was blackened, perhaps burned by the cloud of smog, and their wings just as dark. It seemed this one had the unfortunate luck of landing halfway between the acid and the shore, one of those pitch wings was twisted in a rather uncomfortable position and their legs coated in burns from the acid. A small trail of fallen feathers lined the ground from the edge of the lake to where the Angel had collapsed now. What had caught Hastur's attention enough to take a second look, though, was the tangled mess of red curls the fallen Angel had. 

Approaching their collapsed form, Hastur slowly began to recognize them. One of the Angels that more or less just sat and listened to Lucifer in the early days of the rebellion. Listening, asking questions on occasion, but not quite as passionate as some of the others. Hastur was almost a little shocked to see them among the fallen, he hadn't been sure they'd properly joined the rebellion. Now at their side, he and Ligur knelt before them.

With a gentle hand, Hastur made to rouse the fallen, "Hey. C'mon mate, are you awake?"

He truly hoped they were, his arms were aching, tired from the numerous fallen he'd carried to the sanctuary. After a few solemn moments of silence, Hastur was sure they'd have to carry this poor soul(?) as well. Ligur sighed and they moved to take the fallen up into their arms, stopping short when the redhead finally twitched. Movements slow and lethargic, as the fallen pushed themselves up. Hands straining against the sharp ground, but eventually, they were able to turn enough to meet Hastur's eyes. At that moment, Hastur almost wished that they had been unconscious, though. As something finally clicked in his mind. 

You see once upon a time, Hastur had beautiful, long, silken hair. Hair the color of flax but softer than some wings. It wasn't long after they'd dragged themselves out of the sulfur, though, did he notice that it was all gone now. Not a single lock or strand of it left. Insult to injury it seemed. Even Lucifer seemed to have been given the same treatment. The light that had once surrounded them replaced by a dreadful aura of shadow. He'd almost not recognized them as they marched across the grounds giving commands to those well enough to hear them. And now this Angel, this Angel whose name he'd never quite remembered but who had had eyes bright and full of love. Almost glowing they had been when they were above, a color that was indescribable but familiar all the same. Now... now they were a sickly yellow, with pupils slit vertically at the center. It was chilling to behold. Hastur didn't wish to be the one to break the news to the one before him. And if the way Ligur's hand tightened against Hastur's smoldering robes, he wasn't alone in that thought.

"You alright mate?", Hastur said, swallowing their surprise, "can you stand?"

The other Angel looked about them owlishly. Taking in the well, hellish, surroundings they'd landed in.

"What happened?" was all they asked.

"We're. Not quite sure yet. Everyone is here, though."

"Everyone?"

"From the rebellion at least. We're gathering together, further up on the shore. Let's go over together."

The redhead's eyes looked upwards. Body twisting to look to the smog above them. Hastur felt nauseous watching how their wing twisted with the effort. How were they not in debilitating pain?

"This isn't Heaven, is it?"

"No. It's not", Ligur answered this time, "But it's ours. We just need to make it work."

"... why'd this happen?"

Hastur held back a sigh. Always with the questions, this one. He was starting to remember that. One of the reasons they must have started hanging about with Lucifer must have been that their rebellious leader actually answered them. Unlike Michael, and especially unlike Gabriel who'd always just sent the other on their way without an answer. Now was not the time for questions, though.

"C'mon, let's join the others. Lucifer will tell us soon what has happened."

He nodded to Ligur, and together they took the redhead by the arms, heaving them upwards. To their credit, the redhead hardly grunted, not letting the extent of their pain be advertised further. 

What he said next, though, almost stopped them in their tracks, "What do we do now?"

What indeed? Hastur looked across the ruined fields of black glass and ash. The cries had quieted down, the falling had almost stopped. Whispers echoed over the landscape, as they all asked the same question or variations of it. He hardly knew the answer, Ligur didn't either. This was all so very new in a world that hadn't had anything new in a long time. So Hastur said what the could.

"We stay together."

It was a resolved enough statement. And with it, they marched on towards the gathered fallen. Of all things, the redhead that he and Ligur had found needed that wing set properly. Less it heals backward and broken.

"Who are you again?"

"Hastur. Don't think we worked together much upstairs", upstairs, what a way to speak of it he thought, "Different projects."

"Ligur. Same here. Worked with Hastur a lot. A lot of stars in the making. Who're you?"

There was a drawn-out moment of silence before the redhead spoke again, "Stars... loved those. I helped with the nebulas."

Hastur just nodded silently. Ligur seemed less inclined to leave that there.

"The nebulas were good. I knew someone over in galaxies. Prick, he was, but the nebulas were always gorgeous. You got a name then?"

Another moment of silence and then -

"Not sure yet."

Hastur and Ligur shared a look. Always a strange one this Angel had been.

"We've got time to figure it out", was all Hastur said. 

Their conversation fell away at that point. It was a long walk back to the sloppy structures that had been erected, and it appeared that Lucifer was getting ready to address them all. There would be more time later. Always more time. For now, Hastur and Ligur just walked as gently as they could. Biting their tongue against the pain in their feet, and the shame that hung over all the fallen. Together with a redheaded Angel who wasn't quite yet sure of what to call themselves hung between them, and they just walked. Hastur imagined it could be worse. It could always be far worse. But it was fine for right now. They were all together.


	2. An Apple On Not Quite the Seventh Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meltingpenguins suggested the Bois going to investigate Eden  
> I added a whole bunch more to that

Time was still figuring itself out, Lucifer said a few days had passed since the fall. No one quite understood what he meant by 'days', but no one had the heart to ask them. Or could ask them. Some time ago, after giving a rallying speech to all the Fallen, they'd gone deeper into Hell. Seeking something more for the host of Demons who'd fallen for him. 'Demon', being what they had decided to call themselves, it was a name that sat well with 90% of the Demons in Hell had agreed on. They'd put it to a vote and the majority had agreed it sounded rather unlike Angel and a little scary - so Demon it was (for those curious other suggestions had been: Plupple, Nutter, Squz, and Brittney). On topic, though, what Lucifer was doing specifically while all the 'Demons' settled into Hell was rather unknown, they'd simply gone off leaving Dagon and Beelzebub to take care of all the others. A rather difficult job indeed, considering there was little to even do about the state of the place. The two seemed to just be doing their best to just keep everyone preoccupied. Structures had gone up, and were slowly being refined into something other than 'volcanic rock leaned against another rock'. Such was where Hastur found themselves now, sitting in a hut with their two new companions waiting for what to do next.

After getting the redhead's wing set they'd set up their own little hut. Getting the wall erected wasn't an easy feat but he and Ligur managed it, while their new charge took it upon themselves to get the floor tidied up. Smoothing out sharp edges with another rock and laying out spare feathers to soften the area. It wasn't all together too comfortable, but it was something. A place to focus on, to make plans to improve it and make it better - he'd overheard that one of the Demons, had started to make plans to erect whole proper buildings. In time, of course, to many of their own were too injured to undertake such projects but the thought of it was comforting. Hastur would have to ensure that the roofs of such buildings were sound, they couldn't stand to have a leak as they had now. Dripping onto his head where he sat. Hastur made a note to get the name of the Demon planning the project just to ensure nothing of the sort happened. 

Speaking of names, the new charge he and Ligur had picked up had yet to choose one for themselves yet. It was driving Hastur crazy, he had to call them  _something_ but the redhead was being rather picky about it. Every suggestion was met with a shake of their head and a disgusted face. Ligur had just taken to ignoring them and was calling the other 'Red'. 'Red' of course, didn't like this, but after a few short arguments, it was agreed to be a placeholder until they found something better. Which Hastur was all too eager to held discover, if just so 'Red' would stop purposely ignoring them when they called the name... 

At the moment, this is what the three were doing. Trading names back and forth as suggestions as they sat circled around one another. Presenting their wings to the one behind them so that the burned feathers might be removed and the remaining ones tidied.

Ligur, cleaning Hastur's wings, "How about Crocell?"

Hastur, cleaning the wings of a Demon who was being far too picky, "Or Canio. A very business sounding name, that."

The picky Demon, cleaning Ligur's wings, "Nah. Sounds a bit harsh doesn't it.  _Crocell._ Not at all fun to say."

"Since when does a name have to be fun to say?"

"Well, Ligur is a rather fun one. Rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

"Rolls off the tongue", Hastur questioned, "It doesn't roll off of anything. It's a  _name_."

What Hastur could imagine rolling were the picky Demon's eyes. As if what he'd just said was nonsense, despite the fact that that's what it was. A fact. He couldn't comprehend why this was so difficult... Before 'Red' could come up with a response, there was a shadow in their doorway. Now there was often shadows in Hell but there wasn't often a doorway. Shadows were plentiful in Hell, and Hastur was still getting used to seeing with such low light. But, there wasn't really a door to their hut so much as there was a big gaping hole in the front where they'd not laid a rock over it. Currently, there was someone standing in the hole, casting a shadow over all three of them. It took a moment to decipher who it was by sight but the slight buzz that had invaded their ears gave it away. 

Beelzebub. A sorrowful tale really. Ever since they'd fallen a host of flies had taken to following the Demon. They seemed unbothered by them, though, and Hastur swore they saw them talking to the swarm on occasion. 

"Hastur, Ligur, uh", they landed on the third, waiting for 'Red' to fill in the blank space.

And they did, in strange fashion but they did, "To-Be-Determined."

"We call them Red", Hastur finished hastily.

Beelzebub nodded.

"Red. We've got word Heaven's been doing something up on  _Earth_ ", they spat the word like it was poison, "We need some scouts to go see what's going about."

"Scouts? But how?", was all Red asked, askingly. 

Hastur plucked one of their feathers harshly to get them to silence themselves, "Of course, Lord Beelzebub. Where are we to go?"

"Someplace they're calling. Eden. Find out what they're doing there, and get supplies for the wounded if you can", their sentence was ended as they turned to walk away. Simply expecting to be followed rather than telling them to do so.

They did so.

Hastur and the other two hadn't gotten about Hell much since the fall. They'd gotten hunkered down as soon as they could, and so this became the first time they actually saw how things were shaping up. Poorly. Beelzebub might not have even bothered stating 'the wounded' as the longer Hastur's eyes lingered into the numerous, doorless, huts, it seemed almost everyone was injured in some way. Great lesions open over skin burned in sulfur, oozing wounds that didn't seem keen on stopping. So many with broken, bleeding wings. Beelzebub was leading them toward one of the cavern walls when they passed by a group of Demons. All of them doing what little that could be done for one weeping Demon who lay upon the ground wings up. Or, wing up in this instance. Wherever their left wing had gone, it was no longer attached to them.

At the passing, 'Red' seemed to saddle up closer to Hastur and Ligur, yellow eyes locked on the sight as long as they could. Hastur was quite glad when the line of sight was broken when Beelzebub led them to a craggy opening in the cavern wall. The Demon hardly pausing to check they were still following before squeezing in. Ligur took the lead then, Hastur took the back, leaving 'Red' between them as they followed after Beelzebub. There was a strange red light ahead of them, and it was as they seemed halfway through the crag that Beelzebub began speaking again.

"Our Lord, Lucifer, has found a way up to Earth. You can use it to get there and back again."

Red piped up, "Is there where he went off to?"

"Yes...", Beelzebub was starting to sound tired of the questions, "They're investigating all the caverns of Hell so we might be more secure here. Our Lord is sure there are other ways in and out as well. But this is the only one you need to concern yourself with."

The Demon hummed, satisfied for now. Hastur just shook his head. Perhaps God threw them out of Heaven because She got tired of their questions... A chill ran down Hastur's spine. What had been a funny thought felt all too possible once entertained. It made him angry. At least Ligur and himself had actually fought actively in the battles. 

One by one, they finally found their way out of the crag. Immediately, their skin was kissed by a blast of heat. A great lake of fire stretched onwards for miles. Licking flames reaching high into the darkness above them. No ceiling to the cavern could be seen, and as Hastur blinked at the horrific light - no end to the lake either. Beelzebub didn't even bother to shield their eyes with their hands or wings like the trio were currently doing, and simply led them to a wall of rock a few feet from the side of the cliff. Standing and waiting for them to join her. 

"This is the way."

"Into the bloody lake of eternal fire!?", 'Red' asked ludicrously.

This time Ligur elbowed them, gently, to remind them of whom they were before. Luckily, this time Beelzebub seemed almost amused.

"No, up through here", and so they turned and pointed to the wall behind them.

It was a long wall up that curved around the cliff's edge to the fiery lake. After further inspection, though, Hastur could spot the hole in the rock that led upwards. A small hole, hardly big enough to fit one Angel -  _Demon_. They reminded themself. And it was high. One wrong move to make the climb would mean another fall. As they would have to climb, even if their wings were in the condition to fly the hole was too small, too tight, for them to spread their wings to their full span. Hastur looked away from the hole above them and to Ligur. And Ligur looked to 'Red', who of course looked right back around to Hastur. Together they finished the circuit to return their gazes to Beelzebub.

"Our Lord has said it should lead you straight into Eden. Discover what you can and then return. I will hear your report once your task is completed."

They said nothing for a moment, Ligur taking up the mantle to respond, "Yes, Lord Beelzebub."

"Take care. Try not to fall", with that, the Demon marched away.

Hastur wasn't quite sure what to make of the cryptic message Beelzebub had given the three. But there wasn't really an option, some dark aura hung over the words. Not quite a threat, but more of a promise as to what  _could_ happen. So they began the climb. At first, it wasn't so bad, when still in the open air of the cave. Hastur went first, finding footholds and pointing them out to his fellows as they followed after. It was when they reached the hole that things got. Tricky. Wings held tight against his body, raw edges that lacked protective feathers clawed at by the rocks. He couldn't imagine how Red was managing... All Hastur could do was keep going onwards. Bodies squeezing in between the slick, hot rocks. Every few moments Hastur would pause to look back down, to ensure the other two were still following. Ligur and 'Red' not far behind but gasping just as much as Hastur was. The thick smocks that had blanketed over top the Demon Village was permeating every rock they climbed against. And the passage was only growing more and more narrow. Tighter to squeeze up through, slicker as what felt like strange, thick water poured down over them. Their faces pressed against the rough stone, scraping the delicate skin and leave scuffs of ash upon them. 

And the passage grew narrower. 

Hastur couldn't turn down to look anymore. Partly afraid that if they were to do anything but climb forward that they would fall again, the other part just incapable of twisting that way. Like his neck was suddenly shorter or immobile. All that could be done was crawl upwards through the tight stone towards the pale, flickering light above them. That must be it, that must be -

_Eden._

They scrambled. They tore themselves against the rock to reach that light, desperate to be free of the stone. Free of the thick ash in the crack, free of it all before he slipped or before the crag in the world closed around him. The light was just above them now, Hastur reached forward, fingers straining to touch that pale light. And suddenly there was water. All around him. Not murky or anything of the sort, but clear and cool and ever so sweet against his skin. Hastur was quick to swim to the surface, crawling ashore the soft delicate sands before looking about for his companions. The water was such a grand lake, and oh the foliage. Tall great grasses expanded over his head, and the trees. Had they always been so large? Never mind that, he looked about. Where was Ligur? Or Red? A jolt of fear ran through his heart. 

Had they fallen?!

In a panic they moved to investigate the water again, to find them and so he stepped forward. But instead - they leaped. The sound that erupted from his throat couldn't be called a scream, and if you were to ask a lovely young human woman later - she would tell you that the first frog she ever heard did sound ever so distressed. Hastur landed head first in the water and scrambled to the surface in a hurry. Clambering atop a lilypad with heaving breaths. As they looked down at their hands upon the lilypad they realized something rather dreadful. Another cruel joke  _someone_ was playing it seemed. The grass was not tall, the lake was not a lake but a small pond and the trees were of normal height. Hastur, on the other hand, was not. And his hands were not hands in the way he'd grown familiar with. They were, well, frog-like. Hastur was not happy, but he was determined to be not happy on the shore and not on the lilypad. Aiming himself carefully at the grasses, he leaped once again. If you were to ask the young woman from before again, she'd say the second frog she ever heard sounded just as distressed as the first.

Landing, it seemed, was not Hastur's strong suit as they came down against the ground. Crashing and rolling wildly only stopping when they careened into something. Or someone. A great lizard of sorts, one that didn't seem like it could decide what color it wanted to be. Upon spotting, Frogstur, though, the lizard seemed to settle on a green-ish color akin to the frog before it.

The speaking seemed a bit more difficult on the other hand, coming out rather roundly from the lizard's mouth, " _Hastur?_ "

Hastur croaked. And then croaked again before figuring out how to get something sounding like syllables to come out.

"Ligur!"

For the final time, if you were to speak to the young woman, she'd say she'd had quite enough of frogs and even lizards for the day when she came across a pair seemingly yelling at each other in distress. As for Lizgur and his companion Hastur, they were slowly figuring their new forms out.

"This must be a special form that we can take on now," Ligur said, rather calmly, trading out the green for a lovely orange.

" _Special form!!_ Ligur I'm a bloody frog! I used to be six feet tall!"

"And now your eight inches tall."

"This is bloody fucking brilliant when we get back to", he lowered his croak, " _Hell._ I am telling Beelzebub about how  _inconvenient_ this is."

"Be my guest, Hastur, where's Red at?"

" _Be my guest._..", he mocked back but they had a point.

Where was Red? After an immediate look about the area didn't reveal the Demon they pressed on. The two deciding to seek their charge while they investigated the garden. It was slow going. Hastur was still figuring out how to control the length of their jumps and the garden was vast, with much in it to explore. Luscious plants and flowers were flooding every inch of bare ground to be seen. A cool, friendly, breeze kissed the air like a song only dreams could sing. And within it, there were the two humans. Adam and Eve, they were named. A boring lot the two Demons decided. Hardly did anything but lounge on the smooth rocks and bask in the sun. Of course, the two cared little for the humans and more for the Angels above them. A great wall had been erected around the whole area, taller than what seemed necessary and upon its top great gleaming lights could be seen. Angels, guarding the gates into the garden. It made no sense to Hastur. There wasn't anything interesting on Earth what were they keeping out? The presence of Angels, though, did make the frog appreciate their form. Much easier to disguise themselves amongst the forest in such a guise.

They were approaching the garden's center as the sun began preparing to set. They'd gathered a small collection of herbs to bring back to Hell. Neither sure if the herbs would survive the descent, or even work on them anymore but it was something. But they'd yet to find Red. That was until a red fruit dropped from above and nearly landed on top of Hastur. Croaking indignantly, Hastur looked up. Finding a long, slinky, reddish-black snake hanging from a tree branch above them.

"Red is that you!?", they croaked, displeased at almost being hit by fruit.

"Yesss. Hassstur? That you? You're ssshorter than I remember."

"Don't give me that you worm, what are you doing up there!"

The snake slithered down the tree, curling slowly down the back to join their companions, hissing all the way. They seemed quite besotted by hissing. It fits them, Hastur thought. He couldn't put his finger on why but it seemed like the hissing was almost natural coming from the Demon. Ligur was currently investigating the fruit that had been dropped upon them as Red finally joined them on the ground.

"Apples? What're these for Red?" Ligur would ask once Red had joined them.

The snake managed to give a disgusted face at the name despite the distinct lack in facial muscles, "They tasssted good. And I heard the  _Almighty_ telling the love birdsss not to touch them. Ssso I wanted to touch them."

"You heard God!", Ligur turned immediately yellow, "What did they say?!"

"Jussst what I sssaid. Not to touch the applesss. You ssshould try one. Made my wing, wherever it isss, feel much better."

Hastur had had about enough of the that and leaped forward. Landing on top of the apple, and rolling forward straight into Red. The two tumbling across the ground with a distinct lack of grace. Both hissing and croaking as they went. Ligur just shook their head and readjusted themselves back to a warm orange color as they took a bite of the apple in question. It was delicious, and as Red and Hastur did their best to have a fist fight without a set of fists, they felt. Better. A new sound, though, drew them from their thoughts. Wings. An Angel approaching. Ligur shifted to a color more like that of the foliage around them, the Angel must have spotted them or heard them or something. 

"Hastur! Red! Time to go!" 

The two stopped the roll, looking up in time to see the shadow of wings floating over above them. Grabbing what they could, with whatever appendages they had - they fled. Running, hopping and slithering as fast as they could to the pond. Not one of them really understanding how well the descent was going to work out for them. But there wasn't time to think on it, as the shadow of wings was soon accompanied by the glow of a fire. Hastur got one last good look upwards before they dove into the water. A great flaming sword. Of course, the Angels had great flaming swords now. That was all they had to think, though, as they descended. Rushing through the water at a speed they didn't think possible to reach. Careening through the dark without any real of where they were going. Not one thing making a lick of sense until they were no longer going anywhere. Erupting from the other side of the darkness into the same cavern as before with a burst of water. All three dropping from the ceiling of the cavern on top of one another. Their bounty of herbs and apples rolling about while they groaned. Shocked to find that they were now flesh and feather once again. A stomping of feet echoing in the distance announcing that someone had heard them return. All the better, Hastur wasn't looking forward to going anywhere until he got these two off the top of him. 

Which is what he did next, rolling so that Hastur and Red tumbled onto the ground. He was about to turn 'round and lecture Red for getting them nearly caught by the Angel when they saw it. The other's wing, previously immobile and sad looking, was now stretched out and fluttering in the natural way that wings would flutter about when not injured.

"Your wing!"

"What?", Red said, pushing off the ground, "Oh. Yeah, I told ya didn't I? Made me feel all sssorts of better. Here, try one yourself."

The Demon sought across the ground for the fruit, grasping one finally and handing it over to them. Hastur only gave them a single raised brow at the lingering hiss before taking the fruit. Biting into it, happy to find that their teeth had returned from wherever they'd gone while he was a frog. The fruit was sweet and strange. His head felt like it was clearing, like a number of questions he hadn't asked were suddenly being answered - but best of all. All the cuts and burns across his body felt like they were closing. Healing in a rapid manner. So maybe he wouldn't lecture Red today.

Or maybe he would, because Red looked far too pleased with themselves, "Good right? We should get more, for the othersss. An apple a day to keep Raphael away?"

"Raphael?", Ligur said giving the other Demon a confused look.

"Ya'know because they're all.  _Oh Lord let them be healed_. And all, ya'know? Not like we want them about or anything, especially not now. Turns out we won't need them either."

"You're fucking strange."

" _What is going on here_?"

That voice had them snapping to the craggy entrance to the area. Beelzebub. Looking confused, concerned and possibly a little cross. They stalked forward, arms straight at their side, looking down on all of them expecting nothing less than answers. Hastur tossed the apple back to Red. The Demon stumbling to catch the fruit before standing and giving a respectful, if not slightly over the top, bow to Beelzebub.

"We have returned from Earth."

"I know, half of Hell knows! What happened up there!"

"Oh, um, erh", Red started, Hastur put his head in his hands, "Well - it turns out. We can all turn into some wiley little creatures! Still not sure if we can do it on command.  _But._ There is, in fact. A garden. Two humans - Adam and Eve. And a number of Angels guarding the place. One had a sword that was flaming like anything I swear and - apples!"

Beelzebub looked unimpressed as the half-eaten, red, fruit was held before them. Hastur was standing up, ready to start reexplaining things in a more sensible way before Beelzebub grew angry. One hand helping Ligur up as well before turning to the Demon they were to report to. He was about to speak before said Demon took the offered apple and well. They didn't so much as eat it as their swarm of flies attached themselves to it. It was not a pleasant sight as the apple grew lifeless. Shriveling and rotting in Beelzebub's hand. All while their own pallor grew healthier, or as healthy as any Demon could look.

Once the flies dissipated Beelzebub spoke again, "And what did you learn about these. Apples. And about the humans."

"Uh, well. I did hear God uh, tell the humans to not eat them? 'sss why I invessstigated, to begin with. What's so wrong with an apple?"

" _You heard God?_ "

"Yeah, yeah. Booming as always. Intimidating and cryptic."

"And they were just talking to these humans _about apples_ ", the mush that once was apple was held out as if to illustrate the point.

"... yes?"

Beelzebub turned away for a moment. Pacing back and forth, mumbling but not quite to themselves. As if they were speaking to someone. A shadow seemed to be followed their footsteps. Hastur had a fairly good idea of who it was they were talking to upon spotting that. Suddenly feeling as if there were a great many more eyes looking upon the group that he had originally thought. After a long few moments, Beelzebub turned back to them.

"You three", the three in questioned straightened their backs, "Crawl back up there and keep an eye on things."'

"Uh, what are we keeping an eye out for. Exactly?"

Hastur was going to kill Red. Well, no they weren't but Red was going to get themselves killed with their incessant questions! 

"Anything. Find a way to cause trouble, make their lives Hell. Now get crawling, Red!"

Hastur and Ligur gave each other a dour look, not all too excited to go back so soon after almost being smote by an Angel with a flaming sword. They were already moving to reascend back up when Red decided to open their mouth again. Hastur could see the way that Beelzebub's brow drew tight as the Demon began to speak again.

"Crawly."

A moment of silence.

"Excuse me?", Beelzebub said.

"Crawly. You don't like it?", the Demon said, something akin to disappointment in their voice before they continued on, "If I'm going to be a snake I might as well sound like one so - Crawly."

"Right... Crawly. Ligur, Hastur. Get on then."

With that, they swept away again. Red - no, Crawly, turned to both of them. A satisfied smirk on their face as they all shared the moment in silence.

"Well, lads looks like we're to go 'cause trouble' topside."

All Ligur and Hastur could think to do was stare at  _Crawly_. Not quite sure how to react or even what to think of the Demon at the moment. Something flickered across their face, as they looked back and forth between Hastur and Ligur. What it was was gone to fast to be identified but Hastur was sure he didn't like it.

"What? Do you really not like it? It's certainly better than Chort or one of the other nasty names you suggested."

Hastur shook his head, "It's fine. As long as you'll actually answer to something. Let's go. Crawly."

He turned away before the Demon formerly-Red-but-now-determined-to-be-Crawly could smirk proudly again. It was a rather fitting name. Though as the three made the strange, uncomfortable ascent once again Hastur wasn't all to sure how long the name would last...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I raise your Crowley is Raphael and give you "Crowley worked with Raphael or Raphael tried to save them from falling and he's not quite over the bugger yet".
> 
> Suggestions for the Demon Bois are appreciated


	3. And With the First Rain Came the First Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter exploring how the first bois handled the first rain (someone needs to do an expansion of the rain scene with az with crow, that someone might be me but fuck dat DEMONS)

It was a curious thing. Watching the rain from a cave in the vast sands of the world that they'd been thrust out into. Rain, as Crawly had informed Hastur and Ligur the name of, was what seemed like a relentless sheet of water coming down from the heavens above. Beating cold onto the backs of Adam and Eve as they slipped in the slick, wet sands. Cast out into the world, with nothing but leaves to protect themselves from the elements assaulting them.

Such a curious thing.

And it hadn't even been really intentional. Crawly had down as told and 'caused trouble', and created what was being called: the original sin. Hastur imagined in time it'd be a very impressive achievement.

Sin, though. What a fascinating thing to work with. And it made Hastur angry. They'd fought a rebellion, they'd been cast from their home and then tortured by the hostile, dangerous, environment they'd been thrown into. All because they'd dared to think for themselves. They'd done all that just for the  _Almighty_ to do the same to their precious humans. All that love that had inspired a war had been cast aside in an instant. Hastur looked to Ligur from across the fire they'd built, and then to Crawly in the cave mouth. With a grunt, they settled further into their new resolve; who needed  _Her_ love if it was so conditional. Eating an apple was almost synonymous with rebelling against Heaven itself at this moment, and Hastur for the first time since the fall felt at peace with his fate. Imagining what Heaven would become in six-thousand years when such strict law evolved into something ugly. He could only hope Hell would do better.

It had been a curious few days. Messing about the surface, watching Adam and Eve and hiding from the Principalities guarding the wall. Sometime ago Ligur had figured out how to take on their normal form, though, with some shock discovering the lizard had stuck about despite it. Curled around his neck and head like it was an ornament. Crawly, once figuring the trick out themselves, spent a great deal of time to hide even the snake that had attached itself to his neck and arm. Managing after some effort to force the snake to be nothing more than a black sigil on the side of their face. Hastur didn't care, either way, the frog, for now, was covering their head where their hair used to be. It wasn't as beautiful as the locks once were but until he decided what to do about that, he would accept the frog's presence there. Of course, they didn't get to spend much time in those more preferable forms while in Eden, but it was comforting in itself to know that they weren't trapped as small, vulnerable creatures.

Of course, their time in Eden came to an end with Crawly convincing Eve to eat the apple's she'd been forbidden from. Though Hastur near had a heart attack later when he later found Crawly aside one of the Principalities, almost sure that the ferocious angel was about to smite their companion for the deed of tempting Eve. It took a great deal of croaking to get Crawly's attention, and then a great deal more to distract the Principality enough for Crawly to sneak away in their viper form. Leaving Hastur with one final round of croaking to get out, lecturing the Demon on their carelessness. Getting caught by an Angel like that! They could have been killed and no matter how Crawly said it was fine, Hastur wasn't happy.

He was even more unhappy when a whisper in their ears directed them to follow Adam and Eve out into the desert. Leading to now, where they sat in the cave, at his most unhappy. Hiding from the great, ferocious downpour that had begun. The rain was nothing like the gentle spray that had come down upon Earth earlier. This rain felt angry. Knowing who the rain came from, it was quite possible that it was angry. Although it was, and Hastur hated saying this, a  _miracle_ that they'd found this sandy cave when they had. He was going to stubbornly believe that coming across the cave was nothing more than a chance happening and there was no hidden meaning behind it. Ligur had managed to get a small fire going for them. If you'd told Hastur when he'd fallen that only a few short days later that he'd covet the warmth cast by a small flame, he'd laugh. Or possibly cry. At how ridiculously cruel it was to make Hell horrifically uncomfortable and then force them into forms on Earth that couldn't keep heat in their bones at all. Still, the fire was a welcome comfort as the storm raged on ferociously outside their small cave. 

From the mouth of the cave, he heard Crawly mutter something to themself. Something swallowed up by the storm, the rush of pouring water eating up every syllable before it traveled far from the Demon's mouth. But somehow Hastur still knew he was speaking. They looked to Ligur for a minute, the other just poking at the fire quietly, seemingly unaware that their new charge had even spoken.

So Hastur spoke instead, "You say something over there, Crawly?"

"Hm? Oh, erh, uh", they started as they usually did without any actual words, "Nothing really. Just think it's all an overreaction is all. So much rain, you'd think She was trying to drown the two with it all."

"Wouldn't put it past her at this point... C'mon back over here before you freeze."

"Yeah... yeah...", is what they said, but Crawly didn't move.

It was like they were frozen in time and space at the point they currently stood. Just at the edge of the cave where the water could not touch them. Hastur wondered what the other Demon was thinking. Perhaps looking up at the sky, trying to see past the dark clouds to the stars hidden beyond them. Hastur hadn't done the skies. Ligur had done a few stars before being transferred down to forests with Hastur. It was around that time that the rebellion had begun, in it's most infant form. Starting with Lucifer asking; 'why?' and going downhill from there. For a moment, Hastur wondered if Crawly had known Lucifer before the Fall. They had the same habit of asking questions that the former Archangel did. Maybe they worked on the same nebulas or the same galaxies. It was very likely, in Hastur's mind, that it was just one too many questions and the bad luck of being mixed in with the 'wrong crowd' that had the Demon tumbling downwards. It truly didn't matter now. Hastur looked back to the fire. Grabbing up a stick to poke at the embers, half tempted to join Ligur on their side just to get soak up more heat. 

So he did. It was much warmer. Especially once Ligur moved ever closer to them. Sat in the desert, in the middle of a horrific storm, after being cast from their home - and Hastur actually found themselves smiling. Perhaps they would manage even after all that had happened.

And then Ligur spoke, "Where'd Crawly go?"

Hastur snapped his gaze back to the cave opening. Eyes locking onto the spot that still held the imprint of the younger Demon's feet. Ligur was already moving to the mouth of the cave, keeping low to the ground as they looked for any sign of danger.

"They were just here!"

"Hush, they might not be far... I didn't hear anything, maybe they just wandered off."

Despite the statement, Ligur still peered out into the storm as if there would be some dastardly Angel just outside. Moving aside them, Hastur glared out into the night. If Crawly had wandered off again they were going to chain them to a wall to keep track of them. Even with their eyes, it was almost impossible to spot anything in the night. Crawly's dark robe and wings would be all but invisible against the dark desert sky. They wanted to plunge out into the night, to find and drag their Demon back themselves. Hastur almost moved to do so, only just stopped when Ligur cast their arm out to stop Hastur's movement.

"We can't just run out into the night..."

"We can't just leave them out there for some  _Angel_ to find either."

"Then look harder. Focus, Hastur. They'll be fine."

What would they do without Ligur. 

Hastur turned back to the landscape. Eyes squinting painfully to try and spot the redhead among the pouring rain. His fleshy, heart, beating against his chest. A sensation that Hastur was not quite yet used to, and was starting to greatly dislike if it was just going to make already anxious situations worse. 

A great flash of light cast all the land in white. Hastur in a panic threw his arm up to shield his eyes. Ligur too turned away, twisting away from the cave opening in fear of what the light could be. Looking back into the storm, Hastur saw it just as the light faded away again. A head of shock red hair ripped every direction by the horrific winds. Nothing could stop him from dashing out into the sands once he realized where Crawly was, Ligur a beat behind him as they slid across the wet sand. Almost falling for a second time when they reached the soaking Demon's side. 

"Crawly! What in all of Hell are you doing!?"

The Demon said nothing as they glared up into the sky.

Ligur took hold of their shoulder, shaking it, "Come now! We don't know if this  _rain_ stuff is dangerous!"

"It's not", Crawly mumbled, "Angel said so."

"Angel!? You mean the Principality that was holding you hostage! They aren't someone I'd consider trusting Crawly - now come on!"

_CRACK_

The Demon trio jumped, moving closer to one another in the panic. Ligur jumping to stand in front of them as some strange, horrific, roll of sound crashed across the sky. Hastur wished they still had their blade, angry that it had been stolen from him when they Fall had begun. The same flash of light from before lit the landscape. In the distance, Hastur swore he could see the silhouettes of Adam and Even before the light faded again. Time passed and they all stood, silent save for the howling wind and rain around them. And then another great roll of  _something_ cracked across the sky. A great, deep sound that echoed through the bones of any who could hear it.

Hastur whispered, "Did the Angel tell you what that is too?"

"I don't think it existed yet..."

"Let's go back to the shelter", Ligur said, ever the one with their head on straight.

It was a silent agreement and together they all moved quickly back to the cave. Thankful that the small glow of their fire could still be seen. Leading them back to the welcoming warmth, needed now more than ever as their bodies shook and trembled from the cold rain. Gathering around the fire the three held their wings around each other, trying to use them to block the heat closer to their physical manifestations. Hastur isn't sure how long they just sat there in silence. Long enough for Crawly's long hair to dry almost completely, but not long enough for anything else to. 

"Why'd you go out there?"

Hastur shocked himself. Not sure why he'd spoken, let alone why he'd asked that question. Perhaps the Demon's curious nature was rubbing off on him. It seemed, though, that he wasn't the only one a little shocked. Ligur was giving him a strange look and Crawly had a very wide smirk. Hastur glared at them for that.

After a minute the Demon stopped smirking and gave him a response, "I was trying to see if I could see it."

"See what, the stars?"

"Heaven."

The word cut through the air like a knife through flesh. Suddenly, the cave felt icy cold again. And after a moment, Crawly was stumbling over his words to elaborate.

"I was... trying to see if I could still see it. Even down here, on Earth, through the storm. I hadn't thought about looking until the rain was invented."

"Could you see it?"

"No."

They fell silent again. Perhaps, drawing closer to one another as they did. Time drew on again, the night growing colder as their little fire burned down. At some time in the night, the three were forced to take on their animal forms once again. Adam and Eve had spotted their fire and had come to seek it out. Hastur was less than pleased to retreat into some dark corner of the cave to avoid being spotted. Especially as Adam and Eve praised the celestial forces for the shelter and fire. Even Crawly seemed to hiss lightly at the mention until Ligur put little lizard hands over both their mouths. Stopping any errant hissing or croaking from getting them found out. But that was where they stayed that night. Curled in the dark corner of the cave. Ligur, and then Crawly curled atop their back and Hastur atop them. Sat in the coils of the viper form that Crawly had taken on. All trying to keep warm now that their fire had been stolen. 

Hastur glared at the two humans. Hastur glared at the storm past them, and furthermore, they glared at the sky even past that. Hoping that somewhere a certain  _someone_ was aware they were being glared at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i go far with this fic, eventually ill explore how we go from kind helpful demons to: "demons cant be seen helping other demons" thing that the series gives us  
> but thats all dependent on me actually doing something with my life so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. A Not So Fallen Angel Just Before the Not So Great Flood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flood. Hastur meets a familiar face and for a tiny moment thinks that perhaps things aren't as they seem.

Hastur was beyond unsure what to make of Crawly's report. God was going to flood the Earth,  _"Just the locals actually...",_ because she was mad at them. It was a strange enough report that Hastur had made their way to Earth themselves to check in on things. Ligur was currently helping Dagon with some new plans for something called Babylon so they'd gone alone, and well. Crawly hadn't been lying. Hastur doesn't know why they were so inclined to disbelieve the demon, to begin with... but perhaps it had something to do with the already growing divide in Hell. Some time ago, Lucifer had given a long impassioned speech. Speaking of how their suffering would be long, their pain would be deep, but their work would be rewarded one day. That one day Lucifer would deliver unto them a tool to remake the world in  _their_ image - and to damned with God's plans.

 

Then they'd disappeared.

 

Lucifer hadn't been seen for quite some time. Beelzebub had been left in charge, alongside Dagon. And oh the workload they'd been under. Quickly Hell had decided to try and undo as much heavenly work as possible. Crawly's _'original sin_ _'_ in the Garden of Eden had been a glorious start. Though there wasn't a lot of humanity to bother with tempting in regards to  _'sin'_ so Crawly had been assigned to Earth duty - with Hastur and Ligur likely to pop in from time to time to get first-hand reports on how the world was shaping up. On occasion spending some time up above with Crawly, learning from them the ways of humanity if to do nothing but keep up with things. But this time that Hastur had come up to Earth and found a very different world to try and keep up with...

Hastur had come to Earth and found themselves underwater completely - not unlike the first time he'd seen the planet. As a little frog emerging from the murky ponds in Eden alongside Ligur and Crawly, back before Crawly had decided on their name. They'd burst from the water, and fought against the currents. Wings drenched and soaked in water, fighting for far too long than was comfortable to erupt into the sky. Beating their wings harder than they had ever done before as they fought against the heavy rains and wind beating against the world. Rain fell harder than the first storm that they'd experienced alongside the other two in the trio of Demons. Hastur looked upon the great flood, the cascading waters, and waves that bit at the tips of their wings, and they felt their heart _break_  in a way that it hadn't yet before.

The fall had hurt. Hastur had mourned the pretty spots and happy colors of their wings that had been burned and singed by sulfur, turned deep browns, with sickly dripping green feathers. Hastur had mourned the loss of their wheat-colored hair, once the talk of the choir up above before they'd fallen through the ashy clouds. That pain had been somewhat been staved off when they'd gained their frog companion, a creature they'd had mixed feelings for at first but accepted since it's place on Hastur's head at least hid the loss of their proud locks. They'd, for a time, mourning the loss of the love She'd once given. This was the first time Hastur's heart had broken.

It broke again when Crawly had discovered how to pit God against her beloved  _humans_. Hastur hadn't been alone. When the trio of demons had stood in the face of her first thunderstorm when Adam and Eve had been cast from the Garden. They mourned the love they'd been cast out for upon the discovery of how conditional it was. How little She cared for any of Her creations. One mistake and they were done. One mistake and they were punished.  _One mistake_. At first, Hastur had believed that perhaps the rain was Her, crying, mourning Her own mistakes. Realizing that She'd gone too far...

Now as they flew through the storm, fighting to stay in flight as they sought a place to land. Hastur knew She was not crying. She was  _laughing_. Hastur had fallen and been burned. Plunged and drowned in sulfur, chocked by ashes and smoke. Forced to feel their body burn as they crawled through the sulfur to a shore of volcanic glass. Forced to walk barefoot as their feet bled against the rock while they dragged their fellows to safety. Hastur had fallen and been burned. Now they watched as Humanity fell. Humanity would fall and be  _drowned_.

Just as the  _special_ ,  _most loved_ angels in Heaven would be given haven in a special land while the lesser children would be cast out to suffer. Only the most beloved of Her humans would be safe in their special haven while all the others drowned and suffered.

Oh, Hastur's heart broke. And they swore it would be broken for the last time. All the  _faith_ they had left fell away at that moment. Laughing with no small amount of bitterness at the realization that they'd had any left. In the distance, Hastur spotted a place to land. What might have once been a mighty mountaintop, was now reduced to a tiny hill where two figures stood. Both in dark black robes if their eyes weren't being tricked by the flashes of bright lightning. Hastur's mind filled one in as Crawly, their long red curls plastered to their body were recognizable even from this distance. The other - 

Now they were familiar. They had a similar head of red hair, similar enough to Crawly's that they almost originally mistook them for the fledgling demon. But the texture was different. The curls weren't so big, formed of sharp tight coils, and were tied back with a thick beaded strap at the base of their neck. The thick hair resisted the rain, not quite as slicked against their body as Crawly. Who looked drenched to the bone at this point. As Hastur grew closer they felt their blood run cold. Or colder. They knew who they were - Crawly had made a funny joke about an apple keeping them away once upon a time. Well, even if that was true all the apple's weren't currently under about one hundred meters of water and then some so that wouldn't help, would it? In a burst of energy, Hastur felt all the weight holding their wings down, fall away as they burst forward. Hastur wished they still had the blade they'd held in the rebellion as they forced themselves between the two.

Pushing Crawly back behind them defensively as they stared down a familiar face. One mysteriously absent from the Rebellion and the stories that came shortly after.

The Archangel Raphael.

"Get out of here Crawly."

"Hastur, it's fine, listen -"

"It wasn't a _request,_  go. I'll find you later."

"Hastur-"

" _Now._ "

They didn't know why they were so adamant. They just knew that the fledgling needed to getaway. What Hastur wouldn't give to have Ligur here at this moment... A moment of silence, if a raging storm could ever have a silent moment in it, passed before he heard Crawly's wings unravel and ferry them away. Hastur could hear the way the other's wings fought against the storm, and could only hope they'd manage to make their way through the storm. The older demon dared not look back to check, though, as they stared down the Archangel before them. And the Archangel stared back.

Raphael was a strange one. Almost as strange as Crawly in many ways. They talked a lot, and they spoke with a strange sort of pride for their work. But while Crawly had stars, Raphael had a garden. A special garden in Heaven and it was beautiful. Far more beautiful than Eden as Hastur remembered. And they carried that beauty in their eyes. Deep brown eyes with flakes of green that looked as if leaves were growing in those celestial irises. Hastur hoped that Raphael looked back into their own blackened eyes and saw the reflection of Her cruelty. 

"Raphael."

"Hastur."

Well. A good start. So they stared. Hastur wanted to demand answers from them. Answers that an Archangel must know. But so many of those questions danced in his head he felt his tongue tie together in a knot. Literally. Hastur's tongue was doing rather strange things as of late - it reminded him quite of his frog companions tongue when Hastur walked to close to Beelzebub. The first question they had in mind was ' _Do you feel proud of this, do you agree with this punishment - love a good flood don't we?'._ But that didn't seem to stick. Even as Hastur tried to force anger to well up inside them, they knew that Raphael wouldn't be enjoying the flood. They'd always preached to the younger members of their choir to be gentle with plants, to never overwater them less they drown and the Earthen soil be swept away. So what could they ask them... of course!  _'You must have loved seeing Eden be forgotten, too much attention for such an Earthly garden, huh! Adam and Eve got what they deserved for their sin!'_ Once again, though, that didn't seem right. Raphael had done field trips with their choir to personally plant the fields of Earth. And Hastur couldn't even imagine thinking to ask if they were happy to see Lucifer's rebellion fall. They knew the answer. Raphael wasn't on the battlefield, they weren't there to watch them all fall. So once question made sense over all others.

"Where were yo-"

"They were supposed to be in my choir, you know."

"What?"

"Crawly, as they go by now, they were supposed to be in my choir", Raphael had turned back to the swirling waters now.

Hastur was. More than a little put off. All the energy flooded from them at the others words. And hadn't that always been the effect Raphael had on others? Hastur hadn't interacted with them much above. They'd been in a different choir completely. But the few times they'd heard Raphael speak it always had the same effect. Usually, it would happen when Lucifer and Michael's early debates got to 'heated'. The Archangel would come up from their gardens, a little trail of angels behind them. Guarded by Raphael's wings as they would speak in gentle words that somehow managed to be heard over all others. And with them - came calm. And even as they stood in a raging storm, with what must be countless humans drowned in the waters it had brought, Hastur felt calm.

"What are you going on about."

"I taught them a lot, you know. How to speak to the plants in a quiet voice to encourage them to grow. How to mist the leaves gently so that they'd stay healthy. I always answered their questions if I knew the answer and if I didn't-"

"You'd send them to Gabriel? Or Michael. A fat lot of good it did your choir", and then Hastur felt the anger return and with a bite, they managed to spit out one of the rumors that had circulated, "How many are even left, huh? Surprised you're even still an Archangel with how many from your choir are said to have fallen."

A bitter smile rose to Raphael's lips, "Very few. If any. I haven't checked."

"What-"

Raphael started up again, Hastur was quickly growing tired of being interrupted.

"I'm almost happy Crawly was asked to join Lucifer. To make the nebula's, you know. We were working on the daffodils, me and the youngest of the choir when Lucifer came to me and asked if I could spare an angel or two. I sent C- ... Crawly to help them."

"Why the Hell", oh that was a good expression, Hastur made a note to use that more, "Would you be happy for that? You probably doomed them to Fall doing that! Or are you just happy that you didn't have another angel's Fall -"

"On my conscience? Yes."

Hastur stopped. Hoping that the damned Archangel would continue without forcing Hastur to let them interrupt again. Raphael seemed inclined to do so.

"I know it's selfish, but I don't think I could stand to have even more people from my choir on the list of Fallen. I can't even look the other Archangel's in the eyes anymore..."

"Is that why everyone says you've gone missing."

With an audible snap, the Archangel's mouth clapped shut. Eyes slipped closed close as they stormed raged on. Hastur took the time to look back where Crawly had flown. Hoping to spot where the other Demon had gone off to so that they might check on them later. To ensure that Crawly wouldn't end up on the growing list of Demons struck down by errant Angels here and there... these early days were so violent. When Hastur looked back, Raphael was staring at them again. Their heart skipped several beats in their chest when they locked sight. The brown and green in their eyes had traded places. Now a bright, sparkling jade with circles of brown that looked like a great tree trunk. Spirals of brown circling deeper into the iris, drawing Hastur in - they couldn't look away. They couldn't.

"Yes," Raphael sighed out in a rush, ages of tears behind the word, "it is. You see. One of...  _my_ angels. Had begun to fall. In a rather slow fashion. They'd come back from their work with dark spots among their wings and I thought it was a sickness. And I tried to heal them. Again, and again, and again. And it failed. I watched my choir and so many others fall from the gardens. That's where the rest of us who were not among the rebellion waited. And I was trying to heal them. Even then, as they asked me so many questions. Desperate questions. Like they knew what was about to happen, like with every blackening feather they knew that they were about to fall. Before the Fall had even been thought up. And they weren't alone. I could see it spread amongst the garden. They all knew it was going to happen, and I just tried to heal them. So desperately. And then they just all -"

The Archangel trailed off. A shaking sigh  _fell_ from their lips. Oh, how it fell. And Hastur felt the smallest amount of sorrow for the ethereal being before them. Not a word of cruelty could be imagined to match the sort of pain that Raphael had expressed in that cold and broken sigh. Hastur turned to look at the raging waters before them. Even just by description, Hastur could imagine who might have been among the garden, with wings growing black as they slowly sauntered towards the beginning of the fall.

So all they could think to say was, "Fat lot of good you did."

Hastur didn't flinch, even if Raphael did.

"Once again... right as always. Always stood out you, you must have fit in with your choir. You were with -"

"Don't even say it. I don't even know why I'm still talking to you. Or why you were talking to Crawly. Hid your face for a good long time and now you come out of the woodwork in time to watch Her lay waste to the fucking locals. Give me one good reason not to waste _you_ right now."

Raphael gave Hastur a sad, wet smile. Everything was wet, though, so really it was just a sad smile. It was if they knew better than Hastur did that nothing the Demon had in their repertoire could bring down an Archangel. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that perhaps even though Hastur had nothing to combat them, Raphael being Raphael was unlikely to fight back very hard against them... Unlike all the Archangels, Raphael wasn't a fighter. They were a Healer. A Healer that had had no purpose other than making beautiful plants in all their time in Heaven. When it came to the first and only war fought, though, their title of Healer had done nothing to save anyone.

"I was just talking to my old choir member... trying to see if I still had a purpose."

"Still had a purpose. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I couldn't heal them before they Fell. I was hoping they'd let me try again..."

"Try again? What's that supposed to mean? You finally pick up a blade and decide you'd try to heal us Demon's by turning us to ash?"

"No! No! Never", Raphael looked so convincingly agast, "I would never I just wanted... to see if I could undo what had been done. If I could  _unfall_ them."

"Un... fall. Them. Really. You're a fucking fool if you thought that would work -"

"Crawly wasn't the only one who had questions about what was happening. I just had the status to not incur the same repercussions."

A strike of lightning cut across the sky. The great outline of a ship being dashed against waves taller than Eden's walls. Walls that no longer existed now. Another great feat tore apart in a moment of anger. She had made all the Angels, and then in a fit of anger destroyed half of them. She had created Adam and Even - and then cast them out and let Eden fall into ruin after one slip of  _faith_. Humanity had started to thrive and with seemingly no cause they were being all but wiped out. So much anger and the consequences for not meeting the standard of Her wishy-washy love was growing exponentially. Something about that realization was far colder than the blood that ran in Hastur's veins. What would be next in Her great plan? What would next be written out to be exacted as an example of Her righteous fury? First, it had been fledgling Angels of all types. Those that fought and those that had only looked at Her with great, wide eyes full of questions. What next? Would a child be born wrong and because of that, She'd demand the universe be ended?

How long until Raphael's own status could not protect them from their flight of duty? Hastur watched as lightning struck in the other's eyes. So many years of sorrow packed behind them as brown and green traded places again. What did Raphael  _know._ The question bit in the back of Hastur's throat. And suddenly he felt like he knew what all those Angels sat in Raphael's garden felt. Questions bursting from their mouths as they fell, not quite knowing why but still desperate to understand. Perhaps more afraid of what the answer would entail than anything else.

Raphael spoke again, not quite looking at Hastur, "Would you mind? If I tried? I never got to ask Crawly before you made them go?"

"Excuse me?"

"Might I try... to heal you? I - I need to. I have to be able to. Why make a healer if I can't... if I can't heal the  _greatest_ wound."

Raphael's hands were reaching out towards Hastur's. Looking to take in hands that were stained by smoke and burned by sulfur into hands that still looked as if they'd spent a good day gardening. At the last minute, Hastur slapped them away, and with a great burst of their wings they lifted up and away. Trying not to see the similarities in this Angel with the Demon he'd shooed away. Not just the red hair, not just the eyes that were so golden brown they bordered on yellow. But the questions, the desperation. That ever-constant desperation to  _impress_  someone and to do right by their name... Hastur couldn't let themself see the sameness in this creature of Heaven. Couldn't. For if Heaven was just the same as Hell, why did they have to suffer, to begin with? 

So instead they snapped, "Don't  _touch_ me. Don't you dare touch  _any_ of us! Maybe the fucking reason you couldn't heal anyone was that you weren't meant to. You ask why She'd make a healer who couldn't heal? Well - why make a race to love if you only intend to torture them?" - he gestured to the crescendo of waves - "I won't let you get off so easily next time, Raphael, begone."

Hastur turned and flew off the direction they'd sent Crawly. They needed to find them. Needed to ensure that they were safe. Raphael couldn't heal them. They couldn't heal any of them. The Demons would take of their own.  They beat their wings furiously through the storm, looking for the fledgling Demon. Leaving behind yet another Archangel who'd only managed to disappoint Hastur. 

 

* * *

 

Raphael would remain in obscurity in the millennia to come. Faded into the background of all of Heaven and Hell. Even Ligur would tell Hastur that their back-channels didn't know where the errant Archangel had gone off to. After a good long while,  Hastur had forgotten about the Archangel completely. Most people had. If it weren't for a few human stories about them they were sure that Raphael would have been forgotten about completely. It was a year or so after the Apocalypse-That-Was-Very-Bad-At-It's-Job and Hastur was closing up the boxing club they'd opened with Ligur (alive again, a strange, but welcome side effect of the world being reset) when they would be reminded of the Angel.

The door opened and closed, the sound of the storm in the streets of New York flooded in.

"We're closed."

"Even for an old fool?"

Hastur didn't need to turn around to know who'd come in. With a quick text to Crowley ( ~~friends~~ , associates again, another strange, infuriating side effect of things being reset) they called for Ligur and turned to greet a red-headed fool who still looked like they were growing a garden in their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on my own post on tumblr about Raphael - but mostly in response to @halloweeneva who said "where's the fic op". People are free to make variations of this post or whatever, go nuts. Let's make dat good omens content.
> 
> https://just-mostly-dead.tumblr.com/post/185771114667/about-the-raphaelcrowley-thing


	5. Time Takes a Brief Break for Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur forgives an Archangel, and perhaps things are going to get better. Perhaps. If Crowley would stop insisting on telling everyone about that one story in Bethlehem.

Time was a strange thing, it often 'times' didn't really work the way many people expected it to. Either moving far to fast or far to slow and sometimes it seemed to stop completely. Or it would just skip forward a couple of thousand years for the sake of brief continuity. At least that was how Hastur felt at times. One moment they were looking for their fledgling Demon, Crawly and the next the Demon Crowley was at the dining table alongside themself, Ligur and the Archangel Raphael. So, all in all, an average weekday evening. Considering the other day Beelzebub was over with Gabriel. The longer that Hastur thought about it the more it made their head hurt - so instead they just let Crowley pour tea. Although, considering how long it was taking the Demon to pour tea, Hastur was starting to think that they'd offered to make a pot simply to avoid being at the table with them.

Certainly, Hastur wishes they'd thought of that first... 

When the last time you see someone is in the middle of a catastrophic, holy, storm before flying away with a threat falling from one's lips. Well, it just made things awkward. And Ligur had to sit next to Crowley, and that was almost less awkward than seeing Raphael again.

Three Demons sat down for tea with an Archangel in a boxing club in Hell's Kitchen... now that was truly the start of a strange joke. Hastur could only be thankful that Crowley had listened to them for once and hadn't brought their Angel along with them. The last thing they needed was more Angel's packed around their dining room table. It had been a solid year since Crowley and Aziraphale had sort of helped an eleven year old with far more sense than either of them tell Satan to go back from whence he'd come. A solid year and Heaven and Hell still didn't know what to do. In the meantime, Hastur and Ligur had followed their fledgling Demon's example - and taken up residence on Earth. Just in a place far enough away from them to not see them on a daily basis. So, New York, it was. 

Ligur being alive again after being full-body decimated by Crowley was strange enough, but had been... well it had been a miracle. The fact that Ligur hadn't killed Crowley immediately upon being  _revived_ was possibly an even bigger miracle. That was a story for another day, though, perhaps a story to come long after Hastur decides how to feel about their current tea guests. Eventually, Crowley would come back from the kitchen, glaring at no in particular from behind their round shades. In silence the Demon redhead arranged to cups, pouring the hot water while trying and failing to not let the steam fog their glasses. Ligur at least got a quiet chuckle as they watched Crowley try and nonchalantly wipe their sunglasses clear. Someone really needed to let Crowley know that they didn't have a nonchalant bone in their strange, lanky body.

The tea was poured, they were all sat together. Raphael then Hastur then Crowley then Ligur. And no one said a thing. Crowley tapped the side of the cup and if the scent was anything to go by, Hastur was sure they just miracled their cup of tea into something a little more - spirited. With a great sigh, Hastur decided it would have to be them to break the ice. So they grabbed Crowley's cup, took a great long sip of the very much not tea and then gathered their strength.

Ligur started for them, "What are you doing here Raphael?"

The Archangel twidled their thumbs. Fingertips ran over the edge of the teacup as they looked back to the trio with a strange, half-neutral look in their garden like eyes.

" _Folks, Blokes and Punching Oaks_... it's an interesting business name I'll say, very creative, though."

"Was Hastur's idea", Ligur said, immediately, before they shook themselves back on topic, "Not quite the answer I was looking for Raphael."

"I suppose not... what was the answer you were looking for."

"For God-. You know what no, we're not playing that game. For fuck's sake, Raphael, why are you here? You've been missing for ages and the first place you show up is a Demon den disguised as a boxing club in Hell's Kitchen? Have you even been back to Heaven?"

"No. I haven't been since the Fall. Thought I'd come to visit a more neutral playing ground."

Crowley scoffed, "Neutral playing ground? Ralph seriously, you're having tea with three  _Demon_ _s_ how neutral is this?"

"Are you really Demons though?"

The storm outside cracked. Yet, it came with none of the anger that was in the storm that had been the background music for Hastur and Raphael's first meeting. A gentle hum of rain beat against the dining room window. A pale yellow light flooded in and curled around the cups like flowers growing through the asphalt of an abandoned street. Rolling timpani bursts of thunder shook the old building. But less like an earthquake, it came more like the gentle rock of a parent rocking their baby in the cradle. Hastur just took Crowley's cup at this point. The Demon in question glared at them. Hastur was _really_ going to need to tell them that in conjunction with being the physical embodiment of the antonym of nonchalant - those round glasses failed to impart any sense of actual intimidation no matter how hard Crowley tried.

"What the hell does that mean", Hastur hissed, taking a leaf out of Crowley's book.

"I mean, are you really Demons? And am I really an Angel? Does it really matter? Maybe that's why I couldn't heal -"

Hastur felt the spirited tea be stolen back as Raphael's eyes raked up and down Crowley's form. They let it happen.

Raphael continued, "Anyway... no matter how you look at it. This club and a certain bookshop are neutral ground. Demons and Angels alike come to both places. Gabriel and Beelzebub. Sandaphalon and Dagon. Everyone has been here. I thought I'd try it out myself."

"Alright... let me rephrase a prior question", Ligur cut in again, "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to apologize. And this club had the last people I've talked to in it. Thought I'd start there."

The three Demons looked at each other. Then they looked at the Archangel. And then Ligur and Hastur looked at each other, and then Ligur looked at Crowley, who looked at Hastur who looked at Crowley who looked to Ligur who looked to Hastur who looked to Raphael. Who really just sat there staring at their tea looking at no one in particular. Eventually, Raphael looked back up at them - conveniently at the same time the Demon trio had finally figured out where they wanted to look. 

"I wanted to apologize for leaving when I did. Or perhaps for not speaking out more when the fighting started. I knew I could get them to stop arguing, who knows what would have happened if I'd bothered to try and stop the fighting altogether."

"Wouldn't that have gone against Her  _Great Plan_ , though?" Hastur sneered.

"With all due respect to Her. To 'Hell', as they say, with the Great Plan", their voice cracked and the sucked a breath in again, "It all turned out to be pointless in the end anyway."

Another round of looking went around. Hastur gave in and let Crowley keep their cup, and decided to just miracle their own cup of spirits. Some part of Hastur knew that Ligur would be doing the same here in a moment. Raphael seemed to be gauging them. They would speak a phrase and then wait. As if they feared that their words would come at a cost. That each quiet secret that spilled from their lips might push their audience of the edge. But how much worse could it get for three fallen Angel's who'd been there for it all? Once upon a time, Hastur might have been angry. But that once upon a time came before so many crimes had been committed in Her name. And none of that made sense yet, either - so. Why bother being angry. Hastur slumped in their chair. Swirling their 'tea' around in their cup to shake away their reflection. Not quite in the mood today to look at themselves, even if Crowley had shown them how to reduce their frog companion to a simple sigil on their skin. It wouldn't bring back their hair. Crowley the lucky bastard had gotten to keep theirs. Of course. Crowley had never cared as much for their hair - it had always been the eyes. So, Hastur supposed it had at least been an equal treatment.

Still, they had no energy to even be angry at Her at that moment. What was there even really to be angry about anymore? The rebellion had all been for not. Satan had been unexisted it seemed by the Anti-Christ, She was AWOL and the Apocalypse was on permanent-hiatus. Hastur had lost their closest companions. One to holy water and one to a holy creation of a different nature - and then had gotten them both back. In different ways, of course, but they were back. Ligur still would not go through a doorway without opening it carefully first. And Crowley still jumped if they entered the room without announcing themselves.

Hastur sighed, not an angry sigh. Nor a sad one. Just a sigh. As they remembered the earliest days of Hell when Demons trusted one another. When Demon was just a word that meant 'not an Angel' instead of 'creature of sin and darkness'. They supposed that the flood had had a lot to do with that change. The confusion that had resulted in that action. At least before the flood, even with the casting out of Adam and Eve - it had made sense. But the flood? No Demon caused that. No Demon tempted a human into a life of sin so that She might punish them. That was just punishment. Punishment with a cause. It had been havoc in Hell. 

And if the look on Raphael's face was anything to go by. Perhaps Heaven had been in havoc as well.

"So all the stories, that was you then", Hastur was minutely aware of all the eyes that locked onto them, "If you haven't even been back to Heaven yet, that must mean you've been mucking about Earth all that time."

This time Raphael was silent.

Ligur hopped in, picking up on the out that Hastur had given the Archangel, "Actually, that's a good question. We thought for the longest time that was Crowley!"

"Hey! I've got better things to be doing than hopping about the world doing  _healing_ miracles for random people. I have a reputatio-"

"You spent six millennia pining after a Principality. Reputation my ass. Fuck off."

Now that had Raphael perking up, "Truly? It wouldn't happen to be one of the guards of Eden would it?"

"Yes", said Ligur and Hastur, while Crowley spluttered indignantly. 

And so a new conversation had begun. If Hastur was to let Crowley near themself and Ligur again, then perhaps they could give the Archangel who was the least annoying out of the lot a few minutes to speak. Okay. Perhaps not the  _least_ annoying. Ligur still insisted on having Michael of all people about the shop. To be fair. When Michael was in the ring - they got a lot of business... regardless.

The conversation started out light in tone. Crowley turned impressive shades of red, and for the first time Hastur was almost sad they hadn't had Aziraphale come by as well. The Angel was a right bastard at times, especially when it came to teasing the fledgling Demon. Soon it turned to a matter of trading stories. For every event that the Demons would give updated information on to Raphael, Raphael would give back some lesser-known ones from their time on Earth. Truly they hadn't been to Heaven since the fall. Completely avoided the realm in fact. All the encounters with Gabriel made more sense at least, as they always accused Hell with having something to do with Raphael going missing... while Hell always said Heaven had secretly been behind the disappearance. To be fair,  _technically_ , Heaven had had something to do with it, even it was far more voluntary than previously presumed.

As the sun rose and the morning light parted through the clouds of the still drizzling storm, their conversation shifted again. Now speaking of modern things. Raphael was, unsurprisingly, very up to date on human conventions. It almost seemed a bit like an episode of that one show Crowley watched. The one about the golden women or whatever it was, Hastur could never remember. This conversation tapered off as well, though. And by the time the sounds of morning traffic started their cups were empty and the room was silent. Something had been lifted, but still, something hung in the air. Even while the scent of petrichor hung in the air, the storm swept away - the feeling of a storm about to crack open. 

Ligur would be the one to rip the storm open, asking a question asked so many times that night with all the calm of a weatherman stating that it might rain in England today, "So why did you really come to us."

"Well... I know that you often have Gabriel... and Michael here."

"Yes?"

"I was wondering... if you could help me reintroduce myself to my old friends."

Crowley, after a few careful moments of silence, spoke, "Reintroduce?"

"Why yes. So much as changed. I want to reintroduce myself to them as Raphael. Just Raphael - not the Archangel. Not the failed healer, just Raphael. Just as I hope I've done with you. We are equals. Now more than ever, I just want to be your friends. I should never have tried to-"

The statement hung in the air. Unspoken but understood. Clear enough in that Crowley took off those ridiculous sunglasses for once. Something that the Demon had done when they'd come to see if the rumor that Ligur lived was true. It was trust. And that action alone had convinced Hastur. It seemed to have convinced Ligur too if the way the other stood to make coffee was anything to go by. Raphael had done enough to prove they wouldn't be trying to  _unfall_ them anymore. 

"Right", Crowley drummed their hands on the table, "dinner date with Gabriel and Michael! Shall we do the Ritz? Me and Aziraphale kind of have an agreement with them, any date just let us know."

"The Ritz? Rather fancy isn't it..."

"Trust me, the less you look like you belong there, the more fun", Crowley had that look on their face that said Hastur was going to have to listen to Aziraphale complain about their antics.

Hastur, of course, would be right next to Aziraphale. Ligur and Crowley were a force to be reckoned with when they worked together... Raphael and Crowley traded phone numbers, the latter promising to tell the former when a date was ironed out. Hastur gave Ligur a long look. Their long-time companion only gave a thumbs up, they'd likely already texted Michael about the situation. If the London couple stayed on brand then there'd be a gaggle of supernatural beings in the Ritz by the week's end. Quickly the conversation started to wrap up, about time Hastur supposed. They  _did_ have a business to pretend to run, and the longer they kept Crowley away the more likely they'd have a Principality on their doorstep. Raphael gathered up their coat and made for the exit. Their steps lighter and their smile more genuine than it had been when they'd come in. But they stopped just before they made their exit.

"By the way, Crowley", Raphael turned back to them, "When did you change your name?"

"Hmm?"

Crowley looked to the other two-thirds of the little Demon trio. That strange, half-quirked smile dancing on their lips.

"Sometime around the Bethlehem days - it's a really funny story actually. Me, Hastur and Ligur were dressssed like these three rich blokesss when along came -"

" _Crowley_."

"Whaaaat! C'mon, Ligur you know it'sss a funny story! Not our fault Gabriel gave the newsss to the wrong blokesss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we moving forward towards jesus  
> ffs i never thought thatd be something id ever say - feel free to hmu with suggestions or ?'s over at just-mostly-dead on tumble
> 
> also unfall is now totally a half-assed way of saying 'fixed' - sorry if this chapter aint as good as prior ones, it's kind of the response to the previous chapter and I had a little idea about how to proceed with Raphael having tried to heal the falling angels, in that they finally accepted that they can't fix them - there's nothing to fix


	6. And Then Came the Second Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a leak in Hell again - oh and the good days are over.
> 
> Legion refers to what the fandom calls 'disposable demon' - I'm in meltingpenguins camp of thinking that the demon is actually Legion. Not so disposable just neverending.

After the flood things changed. The waters left and the soil settled, but they did not settle the same way they had before. Mounds dotted the lands where the what was left of the locals had been buried beneath the silt. Earth was quieter now. As if all the world had heard the crack of the storm, had heard the thunder and silenced themselves for fear of drawing  _Her_ ire. The winds had become soft and the rains that did fall after the calamity came like mist upon the lands. Gentle and barely gracing the air and the skin of the humans who had been spared. Even the light that shed from the skies above seemed changed. Bright, ever too bright, but the once vibrant yellow sun had faded to a strange grey-ish hue. The Heavens above seemed to shine less after the floodwaters had swallowed up so much. So much sorrow left unexplained as all things were. Yet, it wasn't only Heaven and Earth that had changed, though, for the waters of change seemed to have sunk deep into Hell as well.

For some time now, major structures had been constructed in Hell. Great towers stood vigil on the edges of the sulfur lakes that spanned endlessly across the realm. Long halls spanned the volcanic shores and had been carved into the deep spanning caverns surrounding the lands they'd first fallen upon. To be in Hell now was to be within the walls of it. So long so that most Demons did not remember what the fire blasted caverns looked like. It had been the focus for so many years, to construct something as to protect their own. To get away from the sulfur, to get away from the clouds of ash and smog. But now, after the flood, those once-safe halls leaked. Water dripped into all the halls incessantly. Echoes of water dripped throughout every corner of the realm. No matter how one might try to get away, the drip followed. And so did the water. The lowest levels that had been constructed in Hell were completely lost, as were the Demons who'd been within them. Lost to the waters that had sunk deep into their realm. A great number of lower rooms were still filled with several feet of water. The cloisters that the Demon's used to rest in, reflections of the light sanctuaries once used in Heaven, had become musty. Mold growing where their few blankets had absorbed so much water.

Hell had changed. Hell had a leak. And there was holy water encroaching on their home.

Hastur watched from the doorway of what once was their cloister. The one they shared with Ligur and Crawly when the other Demon was in Hell. Currently, Crawly was secure back in their position on Earth and was sending steady reports of the surviving locals. Hastur and Ligur had stayed topside long enough to ensure that Raphael had fucked off, and promptly went back to Hell. Even Crawly seemed to be changing. Stating that they were thinking of changing their name,  _again._ But that was less of a concern than their sudden lack of questions. Hastur shook their head and turned to accept the wooden pail he'd requested from one of the wandering members of Legion. They would have to worry about Crawly later, and Hell now. Hastur could only hope that the whisperings that Crawle was investigating in some place called Nazareth wouldn't lead the little Demon into the reach of more Archangels - or any Angel for that matter...

The thoughts bit at the back of their mind as they stalked into the ruined cloister. Careful to dodge the puddle of water that had formed, even more, careful as they quickly put the pail beneath the most recent leak. It was unsure if this leak was holy or not, but that was not something Hastur was about to test. And Legion was far to busy sending themselves every direction of Hell testing leaks for holy water. So many more trafficked areas needed to be tested more than this one cloister. Although, Hastur wasn't even sure they'd have the heart to ask Legion to send one of themselves into the puddle spreading closer to Hastur's feet. The strange Demon, unlike all the others who'd drowned in the holy water, could survive. Or at least, as a whole, they could survive - but it didn't make watching one of their many copies burn in the waters any less horrific.

"Well that's a shame", a familiar voice murmured from behind them, and a moment later Ligur was at their side, "... Crawly's going to be pissed. They liked those sheets."

"Think we've got bigger things to worry about right now. You talk with Lord Dagon yet?"

"Just got back... it's not good."

Hastur barked a laugh at the words. Not good was an understatement on the same level of saying that the Fall had been frightening. Some,  _things_ , had been sturring as of late in the depths. Unrest among the ranks, if they even had ranks. Demons were Demons, but with the flood, it was if they'd all remembered their former statuses. Demons who'd once been Cherubs or Principalities gathered together, speaking in a manner not unlike they'd all done in Heaven. Gathered in secret in the dark corners of Heaven, speaking in hushed tones as Lucifer preached to them. But now - 

With a shake of their head, Hastur snapped their fingers. The door to the cloister slipped shut with a quiet click and all that was left was the drip of water into the pail. 

"What's the news?"

"People are forming militias. Abaddon specifically has gathered up most of the former Strongholds, and Forneus has the largest army. Mostly basic level former Angels, but it's a sea of Demons behind them."

"And Lord Beelzebub?"

"Losing favor. Demons are losing faith in Lucifer's gospel. Especially after the flood. Especially after  _Hell_ _'s_ flood. People are getting desperate, thinking the best choice is to overthrow Beelzebub as they were the last one left in charge."

"So was Lord Dagon."

"Yeah, but Beelzebub makes the big decisions. By their eyes, they're Lucifer's right hand."

"Ridiculous... we haven't even heard from Lucifer in decades... why  _now_ _"_ , Hastur growled, finding their teeth biting down on their fingers if to do nothing else but try to stem the ebb of anxiety that had begun to well within them.

Another leak sprung in the corner of the room. A great font of water burst from the ceiling, cascading onto the cloister bed there. Ligur's bed. Teeth sunk deeper into the flesh, at the thought. Hastur's mind raced as it conjured up scenes of Ligur beneath the water. Caught unaware while they rested. And Hastur still did not if the water that plagued their cloister was holy or not. If they were not awaiting someone, Hastur would have called for Legion in that very moment. Hastur would have thrown whichever member of the Legion that arrived straight into the water, just to be sure. Just to banish the thoughts. A hand-pulled his hand from his mouth, a demonic burst of magic was cast from Ligur to heal the bleeding wound where Hastur's teeth had sunk deep. Deep black eyes were cast upon Ligur. The other's eyes currently a cloudy shade of blue at the moment, matching their chameleon companion. A fun trick Ligur had learned long ago, and with it, the two had built their own language. Each color meant a different thing, and right now - it meant simply,  _'I am here'_.

And so was someone else. With a loud snap, the two turned to the door. Where Dagon now stood, looking flustered. Their brow was drawn tight, and their shimmering scales spread further than usual. No doubt, all their energy poured into the situation at hand rather than trying to will their visage closer to their once Angelic form. Both the Demons in the room gave Dagon a respectful nod before they drew close. As if to keep their voices from traveling far. Dagon coughed to clear their throat of the ever continuous combination of sulfur and water that spilled from their lungs.

"Right", they wiped away the water from their chin, "You both know what this is about. We've not got much time, Beelzebub holds court soon, and I've heard rumors that some of the rebels are going to hold some sort of demonstration. We need to stop it."

Hastur hummed, "Yes. Can't be having them undermining Lord Beelzebub. We're going to have riots if they do and that's just going to weaken Hell. We can't have that, Demons going about _not_ trusting other Demons."

"Exactly, it'll be utter chaos. Lord Lucifer didn't lead the rebellion so we might tear ourselves apart. Ligur, you're popular among the type that's been joining Abbadon's lot, think you could pull from their ranks long enough for court?"

"I don't think so. I've spent the past weeks trying to draw back on the ones Abbadon had gotten a hold of, but they think I'm a plant by Beelzebub."

"Well. They're not wrong."

"At least we know our Demons are intelligent. Hastur, what about Crawly - they've always been a weird one, but they were a lower Angel in Heaven unlike us three. Maybe they can find some common ground with them?"

"No", Hastur said, perhaps to fast, "Abbadon is smart, and Crawly wouldn't stand a chance if they smelled a rat. Besides, we can't leave Nazareth unwatched. Their most recent report says the adversary was in the area."

Dagon hissed. Sulfur spat from their lips as they growled. The Demon stalked about the room. Giving the pail in the room's center a sneer as they went. Hastur wondered for a minute if they were about to kick the pail over, but Dagon simply turned face when they reached the wall. Simply pacing back and forth in the small space. 

Hands wiping away the water on their lips they continued, "Blasted Angels. This is the worst timing. Of course, Heaven would be up to something at the same time our own ranks would turn on themselves. The  _second_ Crawly has an idea of what's going on up there, they need to be here. We need an insider on all of this, even if they can't turn people back to our side they can at least get some information."

"It'll be done, Lord Dagon", the phrase Lord fell from their lips before they'd even thought of it.

No one but Hastur seemed to notice, though, as Dagon's pacing continued. It was easy to let slip.  _Lord_. Beelzebub and Dagon both had been rather high ranking Angels before the Fall. But of course, so had Abbadon and Forneus. Hell was becoming a rat race of who could gather the most influence the fastest. Be the most imposing, the most impressive. And currently, have the biggest army. Every day that passed the ranks of Hell were being split by these usurpers. It would only grow weaker with every Demon that turned from Beelzebub, and in turn Lucifer, in favor of one of these fools. Hastur found his hand between his teeth again, it was certainly the  _worst_ timing. Heaven was making moves above and they were having petty squabbles. It was Ligur who would speak next.

"We need to do something _now_. A show of power, something. Scare the legions of Hell back into following Lucifer."

"What does Legion have to -"

"Not literally  _Legion_ , Hastur. I mean the masses."

"Right, right, of course -" his hand was pulled from his mouth again. 

This time the taste of copper was left on his lips again. Ligur gave them a private smile and their eyes shifted to a deeper blue, with speckles of gold within them. This color meant:  _'I understand, you're stressed, we'll be okay'_. That was all it took to get Hastur to gather their breath properly again. They crossed their arms to keep their hands locked away. Looking at the pail that echoed with dripping water. Listening to how one small drop would land in the pail, and then how a cascade of drops echoed out across all of Hell. In the distance, they could hear the sizzle of what Hastur hoped was just one of Legion's clones testing waters rather than some unfortunate soul who'd stumbled upon a pit of holy water that hadn't been there before. And it was that sound that lit a few in his mind.

"Legion! That's it!"

Both the Demons in the room looked to Hastur.

Dagon hissed, "Yes? What about Legion?"

"A disguise! We dress up one of the brood like another Demon and make a display of them. Beelzebub will sentence them with the highest of punishments. Betrayal of our Lord Lucifer, and of Hell itself - it'll be a demonstration. We'll take the disguised clone and we'll", Hastur pointed to the filling pail on the floor, "throw the holy water on them!"

"And because it's Legion", Ligur was nodding along to the plan, "We won't have actually killed one of the brood, but - it'll be the demonstration needed to turn the rebels back to Lucifer. Forneus will lose half the army in an instant, they're all lowly Demons if they see us incinerate a Demon with holy water they'll turn back to Beelzebub immediately."

"Brilliant... Hastur, contact Crawly, Ligur find one Legion and then both of you to the court - we'll need to do this before any of these rebels command any attention. We need every second we can get. I'll go inform Beelzebub of the plan. Off with both of you."

Dagon was gone in the half-second Hastur blinked. Ligur gave them a half titled smile before their eyes shifted one last time. A calm purple, with the simplest meaning:  _'We'll be okay'_. Then they were gone. Hastur stormed down the halls, the seas of meandering Demons parted ways for them as they stormed through. A longer route would be taken here or there to avoid a room or hallway that had become infected with water. With every step, they took the drip followed. Sometimes louder, sometimes quieter but everywhere it followed. They just needed a mirror. All they needed was  _the_ mirror. Avoiding a puddle of water that was disturbingly miscolored Hastur stepped into a small closet shaped room. Thankful that the waters hadn't infected here. At least not yet. It was empty save for the cracked looking glass on the wall. Hastur refused to meet their own eyes as they reached to tap the surface. A strange echoing sound that came like glass breaking under the water emitted from the surface. The hard glass surface rippled as it reached out to the mortal realm.

"Crawly."

Nothing happened for a moment. Reds swirled in the image as it tried to focus and then a moment later, the face of Crawly appeared. Black fabrics wrapped around their face as they looked into their own looking glass. 

_"Hello, Hastur! What do I owe the pleas-"_

"Report. Have you discovered what's going on in Nazareth yet?"

_"Oh, that! Fun story actually, Gabriel was -"_

"Gabriel? The Archangel Gabriel!? When were you going to tell us that another Archangel was about!"

_"Well its no big deal, they didn't even know I was around, besides they're gone now, anyway, they just came to deliver news to this local woman and this is the real fun part -"_

Hastur let their eyelids flutter shut, rolling them in exasperation, starting to think that Crawly was looking for ways to get themselves in trouble. With that in mind, the Demon cut them off.

"So you know what their plan is? Is it something that requires immediate attention?"

_"Oh, well, not really. It's going to take at least nine months for -"_

"Rather slow for the work of an Archangel..."

_"That's what I said! Az- well, it doesn't matter, what's up? You sound like you got a fire under your ass."_

"I'm in Hell, Crawly. Most things are on fire."

 _"I.",_ Hastur relished the moment, it wasn't often Crawly was speechless,  _"Yeah, good point. But you don't normally reach out for a report, is everything all right down there?"_

"No. Lord Dagon needs you to come down for a bit. If you're sure that it's going to take that long for Heaven's plan to work we need you for something down here."

_"Oooh, a special assignment from Lord Dagon - interesting, I suppose I can share a couple of moments of my time. I'll be down faster than a laden swallow."_

"What... does that mean? You know what nevermind, just meet me and Ligur in the courtroom when you get here, there's a lot we need to fill you in on."

_"Alrighty then! Stay frosty, Hastur."_

The communication ended. And as always Hastur felt somewhat breathless. There was really only one question Hastur ever had about Crawly and that would always just be: 'Why are you the way you are'. They'd asked once. Crawly had laughed and playfully punched their shoulder as if they were sharing an inside joke. Hastur still did not know what the joke was. Shaking their head free of the confusion that often followed the fledgling Demon's words they made for the courtroom. As ridiculous as the statement was, Hastur had no doubt that Crawly would waste no time getting downstairs. Of all things, they were rather eager to please, but perhaps Hastur shouldn't expect that to stay the same. Something about the flood had affected Crawly on a level Hastur was still unsure of. Ligur themself had commented on it once, stating that something was different about the way the other Demon looked upon the Earth now. There was no time to check on it, though, Hell was on the cusp of a rebellion. 

In quick fashion, Hastur all but ran to the courtroom. Part of them hoping that Crawly would slack off just a little and show up after the demonstration they had planned, it'd be a lot easier to explain if it wasn't preceded with a mock execution. Halfway along the way, Hastur was joined by Ligur and one of the many members of Legion. Together they marched towards the court, as did many others. Taking the long routes that were required the masses of Hell all moved to were Lord Beelzebub and Lord Dagon would stand in wait. The gentle tide, though, would become a panicked rush when a pained, furious, howl cracked through the halls of Hell. Hastur and Ligur shared a look, the latter's eyes switching to a red shade that meant -  _'that's not good'_ \- and the two grabbed Legion's shoulders and pushed them along, now breaking into a full run. All around them Demons rushed, to the court. A few taking the risk and plunging through the puddles of water just to stay a few steps ahead of the masses. Only one or two Demons didn't take another step further once their foot hit the puddle... Hastur didn't let themselves watch the Demon melt away.

Ligur pushed aside some slower moving Demons, basically dragging the two Demons along behind them. Forcing themselves forward, they burst into the courtroom. And it was a scene out of a nightmare. Their demonstration would not be happening, as it seemed Abbadon had beaten them to the punch. All about the room were pails of water, the dripping here sounded more like rain than it did a slow leak. Some overflowed, the pails filled past their rims and left to create their own mini-floods. No one truly had known what to do with all the water being collected... but that was not the scene that had invoked the howl.

Lord Beelzebub stood in their usual position, before the thrown of the court, hands over a deep wound in their abdomen. Even that was not quite the scene that had Hastur's cold blood running hot. Abbadon had Lord Dagon beneath their feet. Literally. Held down by the sharp boots that covered their feet, and in their hands, they held a decanter. A decanter no doubt filled with water. 

Abbadon howled, "We have worked under Lucifer's thumb for too long! And what have we gotten from it! We were cast out! Abandoned! And now our own home is infected by Heaven's holy wrath! And what answers does Beelzebub give us! Nothing!"

A roll of cheers broke across the court. Even those that Hastur recognized as having been recruited by Forneus howled in joy at Abbadon's words. The decanter was lifted high above Abbadon's head and the rebel Demon made sure that all those in the courtroom could see it. Beelzebub's cloud of flies buzzed furiously, but they did not move. Not with Dagon a twitch of the wrist away from no longer existing. 

"We could storm Heaven! Their morale is low since the flood - more and more Angels question  _Her_ might  _Her_ plan, we could bring Heaven to its knees if we just acted! But Beelzebub tells us that it's not  _HIS_ will. We've traded one god for another - we shall not wait to see what Lucifer does to betray us!"

Another cheer rolled over the Demon's gathered. Hastur looked about wildly, looking for something to do. Looking for  _anything_ that could turn the tides. To stem the chaos before it brought down Hell. A fire burned in Hastur's veins, could Abbadon not see what they were doing? Hell needed to stand together, not apart, and all they would do was make them weaker. A Hell divided would fall. They would fall. Abbadon would fall - Hastur had spotted it. A pail sat not more than a few feet from where Abbadon had Dagon pinned beneath them. A chalk ring encircled the pail, marking it as one of the many pails that were slowly filling with death. Hastur turned to Ligur, sure that their plan was clear on their face. 

Ligur's eyes faded to a pale almost white color, translation:  _'Don't'_.

Hastur's form faded into that of a frog, hopping through the throngs of Demons before Ligur could stop them. They fell over the feet of Demons who jumped with glee at Abbadon's words, trying to ignore the way Ligur howled their name. Demands for them to come back falling on deaf ears. Hastur's features grimaced as one Demon half stepped on their legs as they crawled through the crowd. Jumping with a growing sense of desperation towards the dreadful scene. Abbadon's words growing more and more delusional, every other word a fallacy. Now, so close to the ground Hastur could see the expression Dagon wore clearly now. It was an expression of boredom. Or resignation. They stared up at the Demon who'd pinned them with as much emotion as they gave a minor inconvenience. As if the threat of being permanently destroyed was as serious as it actually was. Hastur moved with more fury, breaking through the crowd and making a break for the pail they'd spotted.

Abbadon screamed to the crowd, "We are our own gods! Lucifer has abandoned us! They left us to face this blight alone and no longer will we wait for words to come from a source that no longer cares for us! We will -"

Hastur faded back into their normal form, shedding the skin of the frog and quickly taking up the pail of water.

"Oi, Abbadon!"

The Demon's speech stopped and with an unmasked rage, they looked at Hastur. Teeth bared as they did. Behind them, Hastur spied Beelzebub looking at the scene with the tiniest amount of shock in their eyes but body tensed and ready to move. 

"You dare interrupt me, you lowly -"

"If you're a god, then survive _this_."

It all happened in a flash. The pail was thrown, the decanter was dropped. Beelzebub was dragging Dagon to safety and Hastur. Hastur watched as Abbadon screamed. Hands held above their face, afraid to touch their own melting skin as they stumbled about in horror. At their feet, the water from the decanter spread closer to Hastur's feet. They did not move. The cheers that had filled the courtroom had turned into cries of panic. A stampede of movement signaled the flight of those who'd followed Abbadon fleeing the scene. The Demon in question dropped to their knees with a splash, great splashes of their body slopping from their form as their howls grew quieter. So little of their throat remaining to scream as they shrunk into nothing more than a fowl smelling puddle on the ground. Hastur gathered all the fire in the body and looked about the room.

They looked to the left, "Considering this a warning to all of you!"

Then to the right, "We will not suffer  _rebels_ among the ranks. You are all tools of Lucifer and you shall obey their chosen  _King._ Lord Beelzebub!"

Abbadon's screams stopped. Dagon was lifted to their feet by Beelzebub, the King now making a great display of the cloud of waspish flies that followed them. A buzz filling the room, masking the screams and cries but not Hastur's voice. Their words alone rang true.

"Betray us! And you will meet the same fate! Betray us and", they turned to face the group behind them, and there was Crawly. 

Eyes wide and face held tight. As if the Demon was trying to not let the horror that glowed in their irises spread to the rest of their features. They were looking at Hastur, no - looking past them. As if in shock at the scene they'd just witnessed. Of course, the one time Hastur would have liked for them to disobey their orders, Crawly would be right on time.

With a shuddering breath, they continued, "Betray us, and you will be punished."

Ligur was at their side, a hand hesitating to land on their shoulder. Mouth now dry, Hastur couldn't find the energy to plead for them to just touch them. To ensure them that nothing had changed. But a flood had spread on Earth and had sunk into Hell, a rebellion had started and Hastur had killed a fellow Demon. Everything had changed. Hastur looked to Ligur and hoped that just as they could translate the silent words in the colors of Ligur's eyes that the Demon before them could translate the words hidden in Hastur's.

_'Do not fear me. Please. I'm sorry, I'm-'_

Ligur's eyes shifted to a color indescribable in human terms. A color that the Demon had invented for Ligur and Ligur only. Hastur translated. 

_'I still love you.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i know that apparently in some like religious lore somewhere beelzebub was the one that started a rebellion in hell but that didn't work for me so whatever


	7. Afterwards There Was a Coronation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur gains his title, and Hell is forever changed.

The demonstration had been a success. For awhile. A great number of Abbadon's former army had stood down, but Forneus was a clever Demon. They'd swept in just after the scent of melted Demon had dissipated and spoke sweet words into the ears of all those who still doubted. Work was still to be done. Hastur sighed, arms crossed as they sat back in their chair. They were in the middle of a meeting with Beelzebub, Dagon, and a few other Demons of importance. Ligur was off rallying their current troops and Crawly. Well, they had Crawly working double-time. They'd only have the Demon until they needed to follow-up on Heaven's nine-month program back on Earth so the little Demon was sent into the halls of Hell known for housing Forneus' flock. Sent to slither about, listen and do what they do best. What that was Hastur didn't have a word for yet, but Crawly was good at it and the Demon's who made decisions liked them well enough too. Shaking their thoughts away from their kin, Hastur refocussed on the talks.

Beelzebub and Dagon sat at the head of the table, with the largest most commanding chairs, and the rest of the Demons sat encircled around them. Hastur was almost completely opposite the two, leaving them to try and focus their eyes anywhere but directly on them. Which was easy to do considering what was spread all over the table. A suspiciously accurate map of Hell was carved into the surface. The lines spread out much further than just the main building, to the badlands where only the most desperate of Demons went. Lands where strange creatures and ilk of a type that cast fearful shadows into the hearts of even the strongest Demons. Hastur suspected Dagon had something to do with the map. Memories of the Demon walking out of the sulfur lake without any sign they were bothered by it came to mind as they raked their eyes along the carved lines of Hell's shores. As for what was on  _top_ the map, though, that was no doubt Beelzebub's work. 

Swaths of flies grouped inside the lines of the map's borders. Deep, pitch black, tiny flies gathered upon the outer edges of Hell's halls dipping into the badlands - denoting Forneus' troops. Bright, bottle green, flies centered on the courtroom where they sat now in the main area - the army of Lucifer. A few key players were symbolized with very special flies. Beelzebub was the largest, Dagon's was a strange silver. Hastur themself was represented by a chartreuse one, Ligur's was orange and Crawly's. Was somewhere. No one seemed to notice that the fledgling Demon seemed to have evaded Beelzebub's tracking... That line of thought was ended when the talks grew louder.

Barbas spoke, "The Demon Crawly has already reported to us the location of Forneus, we should just have Hastur do unto them as they did unto Abbadon."

"That doesn't solve the problem", Dagon said, "There will be another Forneus. As long as we allow these dissenters to exist another will just rise up in their place."

"Well, it's far easier to destroy one Demon than half of Hell. If another rises we'll smite them as well."

"That is no different! It'll just cause more damage! The longer we allow this rebellion to go one the more Demons who will turn away from Lucifer. We need a swift, definitive strike -"

"Then destroy Forneus!"

"Did you not listen to -"

" _Enough_." Beelzebub howled, their voice came ten-fold, the air buzzed as the swarm that hummed above their heads flared with their anger.

The gathered Demon's gathered quieted down as the cloud of flies pulsed furiously. Lord Beelzebub was sat forward in their chair, their fingers clawed at the map as they glared at the field of flies across the table. Of all of them, Hastur knew that Beelzebub had taken the rebellion the worse. Beelzebub who was the closest to Lucifer before the Fall, after the Fall and still after Lucifer had slipped off into the badlands without another word to all those they'd dragged down with them. Beelzebub had been there for every moment. Every day Hastur could see the weight of Hell press down on them. No longer did they bother forcing their form to appear as it once did. With every day the sores grew larger, each blister wept with more puss - the cloud of flies grew bigger. Crawly had asked Hastur in private before they'd gone off to slink among Forneus' army if they knew how Beelzebub was handling all of Hell pushing their anger onto them. They'd asked it with a guarded look on their face, the sort of look that Hastur recognized from the night they'd witnessed the first storm. So Hastur had lied, said they were handling the situation like a king. Some part of Hastur knew that the fledgling didn't believe them. It made Hastur wonder if the first lie they'd served Crawly would be worth it in a few centuries from that moment.

Beelzebub started up again, "We need to destroy Forneus - " they rose a hand to stop Barbas from speaking "- but we also need to destroy the rebellion. Forneus needs to pay for their transgression against our Lord, but Dagon is right. As always. But we can't exactly just evaporate the rebels either, it'll just leave us weak in the event that Heaven strikes against us. Forneus is just one head of the beast."

"Exactly", Hastur didn't realize they'd spoken up until everyone was staring at them expectantly, "Destroying Forneus won't solve the problem, another will just rise up. But, every rebellion rides on its leadership. Forneus is smart, smarter than Abbadon, they likely have a council just like this. That's why people are following them, they've got  _ranks_. They've got..."

"A _hierarchy"_ , Beelzebub finished for them. 

With a wave of their hand the biggest bottle-green fly that represented Forneus split into six. Circled up just as Beelzebub's own council was.

"We need a hierarchy to replace theirs. Too long Hell has just been Dagon and me handing down the word of Lucifer. No wonder no one trusts us. We sound like Michael and that fool _Gabriel_."

Hastur flinched at the way the Demon hissed Gabriel's name. They looked down to the map again. Just as a shiny red fly had appeared again. Crawly had come back from wherever they'd gone off too. There was something strange about their marker, though, that little fly buzzed as if its wings had been clipped. Crawling in panicked circles as it fled from the badlands deeper into the safer halls of Hell. The conversation picked up around Hastur again. Groups of flies were adjusted to represent a prospective battle plan, but they ignored all that movement. Focused on a little red fly as it moved in a harried fashion towards an orange one. Red found orange, the orange fly almost seemed to half carry the little red one as Hastur watched the two move down the halls again. This time, they knew that the flies were moving towards the court currently in session. Hastur felt the eyes all land on them, the conversation cutting off as they pushed up from the table. Their chair had just hit the ground when Hastur had thrown open the doors leading out into the halls. Ligur and Crawly all but fell into Hastur's arms. 

A singular moment passed where Hastur tried to gain the eye of Ligur, to try and understand what had happened. Yet, the other was focused purely on the fledgling in their arms. Before Hastur could even try to vocalize those thoughts, the court broke into action. Quick to usher them all within the walls of the courtroom, the doors shut to keep out prying eyes. Hastur helped Ligur settle Crawly into a chair, trying to ignore the flood of questions that washed over them. The fledgling Demon hadn't looked worse since Ligur and Hastur had found them just shortly after the Fall, nor had the ever looked angrier. Hastur kneeled before them trying to ignore the slow drip of what was, for once, not water but blood.

"What happened."

"Forneus is marching on you."

Beelzebub's swarm buzzed, " _What_ _!?_ _"_

"What happened, to  _you_ Crawly", Hastur tried again as the court as they jumped into action, "Did they find you out? Who did this?"

"Does it matter. You should go find your blade Hastur... it looks like you're all about to go to war again."

A hand landed on Hastur's shoulder, Dagon was dragging them to their feet. Ligur was dragged up a moment later. They could already hear the start of the fighting in the distance. A blade was shoved in Hastur's hand, a familiar weight that they'd not carried for a long time. Not since the first rebellion. The playing field had been set and Hell marched against... itself. The court fled from the room, Ligur and Hastur dragged after them - Hastur managed one final look back at Crawly. The other's face masked by the cascade of hair that hung from their head. The question of ' _what happened'_ rang in Hastur's ears. Ever unanswered as they were ferried away from  _their_ fledgling. Something had changed. Or perhaps the changes had finally finished changing. Ever since Hastur found them waylaid by Raphael in the flood, it had begun. Now. Hastur doesn't know, they kept their eyes on Crawly until they were finally forced away as the court moved to rally the troops. The only thing Hastur did  _know_ was that there would be consequences for attacking one of their own...

As for Crawly.

They watched the board of flies. Dragging their seat closer to the board to watch as the group of flies that was Beelzebub's court stormed down the halls. While from the badlands the flies that represented Forneus' army invaded the inner halls of Hell.  

They watched as a chartreuse fly split off from Beelzebub's court. Just behind the chartreuse, one was an orange one. Side by side they buzzed down the halls carved into the map. One by one scattered flies followed after them. Every corned that was passed more flies gathered behind the rallying force of the chartreuse fly. It was like rewatching something they'd already seen. Just as in the first rebellion, Hastur had been a major rallying player, and once again they marched. And all the Demon's who saw them fell into line. Soon a great mass of flies followed behind that chartreuse one and moments later they'd crash into the wall of flies led by Forneus. All the flies erupted from the map. Flies tore and fought one another with teeth and claws that would be unnatural on any such creature found on Earth. Wings were torn from the backs of flies, left to plummet to Hell a second time. Eyes plucked from rebel heads, legs torn asunder. Blood in masses unbecoming of the swarm spewed across Dagon's carefully curated map. That chartreuse fly was at the center of it, fighting one of the great flies that had come from Forneus' court. A great beast of a fly, with heads that could not be counted. 

Buzzing about each other furiously the fight only grew more wicked. Piles of flies had begun to stack up on the map. The great fly that was Beelzebub had engaged with Forneus proper. High above all the others, a magnificent silver fly burst into the engagement whenever an opening arose. An orange fly somewhere amongst the battle was taking on a seemingly endless tidal wave of nameless flies. The battle only seemed to grow more violent with every second passed, even as hundreds of flies fell to the map below. Littering the carved lines that marked Hell's halls, on the outer edges the flies were pushed outside the lines that marked the great walls. Their bodies rolled over into the part of the map marked ' _sulfur'_. Those flies melted into puddles, their bodies never to be recovered. The fight drew on. 

On Earth, it would be done and over within but a few hours. Someone could order dinner and have eaten in the time it would take for this rebellion to be finished.

For the Demons, though.

From the moment Crawly had walked into the courtroom, just in time to watch as Hastur destroyed Abbadon, to this moment now as they watched a chartreuse fly tear every inch of their opponent to shreds - it had been:

 _Years_.

The flies collapsed on the map would rot. A foul stench filled the air. But Crawly did not flinch, they just watched as the once-great swarm was reduced to a pathetic cloud of insects. Crawly wondered what Hell would do if they could see themselves like this. If Forneus would have stopped before Dagon and Beelzebub could tear them in apart in either direction; their strange organs that did not fit the body of a fly spilled to the map table. If a chartreuse fly and an orange fly would see themselves and realize that they'd just gone around in a great Sisyphean circle. A rise and a fall followed by another rise and fall. A great cry echoed through the halls of Hell. The battle had been won, and all the insects who fought within it unaware of how small they truly were. 

As the flies of Beelzebubs army encircled around their leadership, one orange fly looking on as the chartreuse one was lifted above the crowd. Crawly let the smallest of smiles rise to their lips at the sight. They were happy for Hastur. They were. But they could sense the end of something else. So much of their time was dedicated to Earth while Ligur and Hastur worked down in Hell. Of course, they didn't mind, Crawly did have some fun individuals to take up their time while on Earth... Still, something had changed with the flood. 

It had been so long since they'd seen the cloister they shared with the other two. And when they returned, it too was flooded. Their sheets that they'd brought down for the others were soaked through with holy water. That didn't matter, though, Crawly didn't expect they'd see the cloister again. Before the flood, they'd spent equal time above and below. As did Hastur, coming up alone or coming up with Ligur. Crawly had liked it most when they both came above. The amount of trouble they could cause was exciting, but every time they came the less trouble they caused together. The farther in between each visit they got. Crawly didn't blame them, especially with the likes of Forneus causing such strife, the two were beyond busy. They had responsibilities of their own. Responsibilities of a higher matter than what they themselves were charged with. Crawly knew they had it good being the on Earth liaison, but that was part of why they liked it when the two came to visit. To get out of Hell, to breath air not plagued by ash, to feel waters not infected with sulfur - or holiness as it was now. The flood, though...

Crawly shook their head, and with a pained breath, they stood from their seat. Walking up to the board, they looked across it as the celebrating flies moved through the halls. The cries of celebratory Demon's echoed like breaking glass throughout Hell. They ignored those flies, though, and sought out another. A solitary one that sat around a table, with a red body and black, glistening wings. Far from the fly of orange and chartreuse, far from the celebrations and the Demons who cheered in glee after the massacre. Crawly reached across the table, over the torn wings, bodies of flies that were torn about the board, blood slick across the map, their fingers danced over the bodies of those who still twitched. Hell had changed. Crawly recognized those among the fallen. Those who'd followed Forneus simply because they wished not to follow Lucifer in the blind manner that they had once followed  _Her_. Those who simply wanted more structure so they might feel safer. Those who were too afraid to tell the likes of Forneus: no. Crawly had hoped it wouldn't happen, but they were no fighter, they were no negotiator. So what came was the will of those who could do _something_. 

Their hand scooped up the red fly they'd sought out. Crawly brought it up to their face, their own yellow eyes looking into the golden mirrors that looked back at them. The little flies gaze almost accusatory.

As if it was trying to say,  _"What do you mean, 'those who could do something', you could do something do if you'd just bother to try, bother to -"_

They looked away from the fly, and back to the parade on the map below. Hell was different, that was sure. Hastur was different, as was Ligur. With a half-cocked smile, they closed their hand tight. Forceful enough that a small pop could be heard. The fly they'd picked up crushed within their grasp. Crawly knew they'd changed too. Greatly so.

Perhaps it was time to change their name.

Something more... Crawly looked up, but not too far up. He didn't care for so much for the top floor. Well, most of the top floor. Crawly turned away, making their exit just as the biggest fly on the field gathered up the noteworthy flies among the field. The group moved to return to the courtroom. It seemed that the main court of Hell had matters to discuss.

 

* * *

 

Hastur had never been the center of so much attention before. Their eyes locked across the masses that had gathered as they stood next to the thrown of Beelzebub. A sizable chunk was missing from what once filled the grand courtroom. Ligur was at the front of the crowd, alongside Crawly. Neither looked happy. Which was fair, because Hastur wasn't happy either. They wanted to step down from this place. To join them at their side and walk away. But they couldn't. It had been agreed. Hell would stand no chance unless they had ranks. Lord King Beelzebub, Lord Prince Dagon, so many others from Azazel to Orcus given their own titles.

Knights, Baronets, Barons, Viscounts, Earls, Marquess', and then at the top:

"Finally, we promote and honor Hastur for their glorious show of skills upon the battlefields of Heaven and now once again in Hell. A master of strategy and wrath, hereby they shall be Duke Hastur of the first cohort of Hell. May any who invoke their fury be smote in quick fashion."

Hastur felt their body kneel with very little input on their part. A blade hewn from some bone came down on their shoulder. It weighed more than anything had ever felt before. Like the weight of the world had just been laid upon their shoulders and charged with carrying it for all eternity. The blade was lifted and laid back down upon Hastur's opposite shoulder. The hounds started to howl, yet the crowd remained silent. The sword of bone was once again lifted from their shoulder and Hastur rose - taking the offered  _trophy_ that Lord Dagon handed them. What remained of a bleeding goat's head, a symbol chosen to now represent Lucifer's army. A symbol of... Satan, as those who were too afraid to speak their Lord's true name, would say. And Hastur turned, their arm already raising the goats head above the crowd and with it, the crowd finally cried out. Cheers in a language that had not yet touched Earth above. A language created, spoken and summoned into reality by Demons. 

Yet, Hastur cared not for the cheering masses and their rancourous cries. The pure wave of pride that washed over them was not something they had wished for. Instead, they just looked to their own. Ligur was looking at them, but from this distance, the shade of their eyes could not be seen. For once whatever Ligur was thinking was secret to Hastur. Aside Ligur, Crawly looked. Absent. As if some part of them wasn't actually watching this coronation, had checked out long before Hastur had kneeled and let themself be titled. Perhaps they had. 

Tomorrow Crawly would go back up to get an update on the Nazareth situation. It'd be a few months before Crawley and Hastur saw one another when they alongside Ligur would ascend to see what this nine-month plan that Heaven had would result in. That realization awoke something in the back of Hastur's mind. While blood ran down their arms and the new leaders of Hell stood on either side of them, encouraging the cacophony of cheering in the courtroom; Hastur could only think that they had to do something. Well, something  _else_. They were in fact currently doing a lot. But something in regards to Crawly.

Ever a drifting soul, that one. They'd drifted from Raphael's choir to Lucifer's and then from God's word to the Fall. And now. Hastur could see it in the sheer despondence painted on their face. Crawly was drifting from Hell. This time, though, Hastur wasn't sure where they would drift to. If the fledgling Demon  _did_ find someone to drift to, what would that entail? Would one-day Hastur find themself stood in this same courtroom again, with the masses of Hell cheering on as Crawly was made an example? 

Hastur looked to the Demon, trying to impart in some way the messages that Ligur was so proficient at sending. Silently they begged for those yellow eyes to focus on them, to see and understand. That -

Beelzebub and Dagon moved in from of them, finally relieving Hastur of the bleeding head they'd been presented. By the time they moved again, Crawly was gone, and Ligur was turned away. No doubt looking to see where the fledgling had gone. And Hastur knew that in some hall of Hell, Crawly would slowly saunter their way back to Earth, and they'd not seen the message Hastur had tried to convey:

_Don't fear this, it'll be fine - we're family._

_Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one aint the best  
> havent been doing great - i mostly just wrote to stop myself from doing nothing, thanks for reading

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave suggestions for me - i'll get to this fic whenever i have time!


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